The Truth Makes Death
by owlcat92
Summary: Yep, crossover. Spoilers for the ending of the MoA, so read no further - and Divergent, too. What happens when two kids fall out of a puddle of darkness that appears on the roof and say to have been through hell? What happens when they walk through the gates and plunge into a world of gods and goddesses and curses and histories? Rated M for torture scenes and I'm paranoid.
1. Chapter 1

**I know I really shouldn't start a new story, but I was just talking to Cat, and I was like, oh my gods, that's a great idea for a crossover!**

**So, here we are. No, I am ****_not _****abandoning TTM, I'm just going to juggle two stories. Whoohoo!**

**Divergent meets Percy Jackson, people!**

**Um . . . this is set . . . sort of in the House of Hades, I guess . . . since that hasn't been released . . . AFTER THE MARK OF ATHENA!**

**Okay, so yeah.**

**SPOILERS, READ NO FURTHER IF YOU HAVE NOT READ THE MoA!**

**Set after Percy and Annabeth are in Tartarus, and they're at the Doors, and I had this idea that the Doors had to be ****_sealed, _****so souls would have to seal them shut, one for each side, and so I made it that those two souls were Percy and Annabeth.**

**Hopefully the confusing bits will be explained through this chapter, okay?**

**Yeah, this is a really short one, but yeah.**

**Okay, yes, this is a sort of . . . evil title, but I just could not figure out what on Olympus and earth what to call this - so this is what it's called. If you have a better idea, do tell.**

**Please enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: DO I LOOK LIKE VERONICA ROTH OR RICK RIORDAN?**

* * *

Annabeth slashed at a bubbling figure that was emerging from the ground. Something wrapped around her ankle and attempted to pull her under. She stumbled, but Percy's hand shot out and grabbed her wrist. She kicked at the goo on her leg. It writhed and let go. She leaned onto Percy as her skin began to burn from the boiling thing. Her adrenaline was rushing, and she couldn't stop to even grimace.

More figures began to rise from the goo. They backed up against the Doors. "Nico!" she screamed. "Come on! Close the Doors with us, death boy!"

"No! Wait—come on!" Frank called back. Annabeth blinked back tears. "We did _not _go through the House just to not get you."

"Come on, guys!" Jason called. "Come on, we can get you back!"

"Guys, be quiet," Nico said darkly. "You can't stop what Percy and Annabeth know is the right thing. It isn't making it any easier."

Annabeth suddenly felt a surge of gratitude for the kid. "Come on, guys—one last adventure to do, huh?" Percy called. "Besides, we already know where we belong now."

"What do you mean?" Hazel screamed. "You can't just—"

"They mean something else," Nico said. "Hey, Perce, come on, the big finale, huh? On three! Ready, Percy, Annabeth?"

"Yeah," they called back in unison as the figures began to gain features—hunched shoulders, shrouded faces.

"One," Nico called. Annabeth and Percy placed their palms on the bronze doors.

"Two." Annabeth could hear sobs through to the other side of the Doors.

"Three!"

They pushed. Annabeth had never pushed something so hard. The Doors gave a low, grinding hum as they inched inwards. Annabeth and Percy locked eyes. This was it.

Annabeth blinked back tears and squeezed his hand as she jumped into the gap between the two sides of the Doors. Percy grabbed something and jumped in after her, pulling the Door behind him.

The Doors closed around them. _Everything great requires a sacrifice. The greater the task . . . the greater the sacrifice . . ._

The Doors began to make her head throb. She squeezed Percy's hand tighter. It hummed around them, making them feel like they were made of vapour. She closed her eyes and melted into Percy's arms.

For a moment, there was only pain. Could the dead feel pain? She didn't know. The Daughter of Athena, rescuer of the Athena Pathenos, didn't know something.

Then they were thrown upwards. They began to fall. They were tossed around in the descent. Then the world around her became so bright that she could see it illuminating beneath her eyelids.

She knew she was dead. She'd died when she hit the bottom of Tartarus, but Tartarus hadn't let their souls go to the palace of Hades. They'd been trapped. It was too powerful.

She and Percy had fought their way to the Doors. Then they had met up with the others like they had promised. And they had said goodbye.

Gaea had thrown everything at them—making Tartarus crumble, sending armies of monsters, gotten primordial to attack . . . everything to weaken them, to split them up. But she's failed. Percy and Annabeth were still together. Even in this strange limbo they had fallen into as the Doors had been sealed shut with their souls to bind it.

That was what the prophecy line was, wasn't it? _An oath is held with a final breath_—Percy's and Annabeth's final breaths had sealed the Doors shut. They couldn't be undone anymore. One less thing to worry about.

She opened her eyes when they'd stopped being tossed around. There were three archways in front of them. One had a glowing red light coming from it, then one that was a sickly yellow, and then one that was white. She looked up at Percy. "Which one?"

"Don't know . . . white's the colour of heaven."

Annabeth looked down and blinked away more tears. "White it is, then."

She took Percy's hand and together they walked into the white archway. They walked three steps, and then the ground vanished, and they were tumbling through the air again.

* * *

I look at the screen, stunned.

"Liars!" shouts someone.

"Erudite theories! False!"

"We wasted all that for _this_? This is rubbish!"

"This is all _her _fault!" screams Tori. I look up at her. I had trusted her so much when I had come to Dauntless. Had my act to get the truth out changed her so badly? Just because I had wanted to keep Jeanine alive . . . did that make me a criminal?

"Leave her alone!" Tobias roars next to me. Tori sends him an icy cold glare. "Oh? But I thought that this _traitor_—"

I look at Tori, realising just how much her brother had meant to her before he was killed. I am about to say something when the room goes completely silent.

Inky tendrils begin to gather on the ceiling of the building. They writhe across, making a huge gash of black, and then they begin spread out like some huge, inky disease. Tobias pulls me away from them as they spread down the walls.

Then they seem to open up with a sinister hiss, and two figures come tumbling out. They hit the ground with a jarring thud. Everyone is too stunned to move.

The tendrils writhe again, and seep back together, before shrinking into a small dot, and then they disappear altogether. Tobias pulls me further behind him. "Who are you?" he asks the two figures that lie, slightly stirring, on the ground.

People draw their guns and point them at the two. I peek out from behind Tobias's arm to see. I know it's useless to try and push past to see them better.

One of them, the larger one, pushes itself up with its arms. The other lies next to it, groaning. It was a boy, maybe about Tobias's age. The figure next to him is a girl. She has long, curly blonde hair.

"Who are you?" Tobias asks again, colder. The boy gets to his knees and pulls the other one closer to him by her shoulders. She looks around her, and then slides to her knees.

"Who _are _you?" Tori hisses at them. They boy looks at her, then he a look of realisation passes over his face. He looks at the girl, and they share a silent moment of shock, eyes wide, lips slightly parted, as if in awe.

The girl looks down at her hand, criss-crossed with scars and cuts. I realise that they're _both _carrying scars. The boy's wearing a red t-shirt, and the girl's is mottled with red. I have a feeling that it's blood.

"We're . . ." she begins, looking in horror and shock at her hand. "We're meant to be dead."

I can see Tori glaring at them coldly, almost with the same intensity as Jeanine, the same evil motives seemed to be glistening on the surface of her eyes. "Answer with no riddles, if you please."

_Please. _Tori had never spoken like that before. The girl looks at the boy, and he then turns to glare at her. I take a step back from the glare he gives. It's a powerful glare, like he learned it from wolves themselves.

"We are meant to be dead," he says darkly. "Because we are."

* * *

**Yep.**

**So, third person for Annabeth and Percy because that's how the HoO are written, and then first person present tense for Tris, because that's how Divergent's written. Understand?**

**Good.**

**Please R&R,**

**-Owl**


	2. Chapter 2

**Second chapter! YAY!**

**Um . . . sorry if this gets a bit random, but, ah . . . yeah . . .**

**Please enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I AM NOT A GUY AND NOT A REAL AUTHOR, SO OF COURSE I DON'T OWN ANYTHING**

* * *

**_Chapter 2: The Truth, the Lies_**

Annabeth looked around at the people. _People. _Her hands were scarred so badly it was as if every blow that had gone through her vaporous hand as she was dead had come to the surface of her skin. Solid. She was alive, she was breathing. Her heart was beating in her ribs.

The boy they could see, obviously a leader, had someone behind him, looking past his arm. She was short and small, but the look in her eyes suggested that she was far older than she appeared. The other woman that Percy was glaring at—she looked different. The light in her eyes was almost haggard, almost . . . malicious.

"You're dead?" she scoffed. "Give us proof."

Percy looked away. Annabeth did too. What proof did they have? Annabeth realised that Percy was wearing a red shirt. That wasn't right, he'd been wearing an orange one . . .

Annabeth's stomach knotted as a horrible nauseous feeling came over her. His shirt wasn't red. It was orange. The red . . .

"Tori, you have a good reason to not believe them," said the boy. "But that doesn't mean that they aren't trustworthy."

The woman, Tori, glared at him. "Oh, and what would you do, _Tobias_? Get your little traitor friend to help?"

"She is not a traitor!" Tobias yelled back. The girl behind him stepped out. She was _tiny. _She had the body of a twelve-year-old. She was wearing a blue t-shirt. Annabeth looked around the room and saw mainly black-clothed people.

Annabeth reached for her dagger, which she found in its sheath at her belt. "We _are _dead," she said, almost desperately. "Please, believe us. We . . . we fell to the bottom of this huge chasm . . . and . . ." Annabeth stopped. She sounded like she was insane. She probably was.

She couldn't just randomly start blabbing on about the gods and their quest and how they had somehow ended up on the floor right there. She took a deep breath. She ran the odds through her head. She prayed she was right.

"Percy," she said softly. Percy looked at her. Annabeth changed to Ancient Greek and began to spill out her plan to him. He frowned. "No," he said. "I'll do it."

Percy got to his feet shakily. "If you don't think we're dead," he said. "Shoot us."

Tori grinned and beckoned an armed guard forward. "With pleasure."

* * *

The gunman takes aim at the boy. I want to scream out that he's insane, that he'll be killed, but he seems sure of something. I gulp and squeeze Tobias's hand tighter. I don't want to have to watch this.

The gunman's mouth is lifted into a sadistic smile as he pulls the trigger of his revolver.

The bullet should've hit the boy square in the chest, and it does, as it hits him, he staggers, and then the bullet goes right through him and smashes the television screens behind him. He falls to his knees as the girl begins to cry, obviously they are close.

Then he glared at the ground, and got to his feet. There was no blood, no wound.

He glares at Tori as the girl grabs his hand and stands up next to him. "I'm meant to be dead now, aren't I?" he says. I look from him to the screens. There's a loud bang, and the gunman's' revolver falls to the ground.

"But he's not," says the girl next to him.

Tori is gaping at him. Terror mixed into her features. I feel Tobias stiffen in shock. The room's strangely quiet.

"Where are you from?" I ask as I take a step forward. Tobias reaches out to grab me, but I move away. "How are you not dead?"

The girl looks at me with interest. I see her eyes for the first time. They're a startling grey, as if just looking into them will give her the answers she needs to make the efficient and fast way to kill me.

"We are from the place of the dead, I guess," she says. "And we're not dead because you can't kill something that's dead. We're solid masses, but we can't be killed."

Tori comes out of her shock. "But you can still be captured."

_Captured. _I was captured in Erudite, being tested on as a Divergent, something Jeanine was so desperate to control. Why? Was it because we had something that was a key to the world beyond the gates of Amity?

"Get them!" she shrieks. The factionless surge forward, but in a split second, the earth shakes so violently that the televisions rattle. Outside, windows are falling from the buildings. The people run, and in that moment of chaos, I am the only one watching them.

I am birdlike. I am light on my feet. I run across the ground, after them. I don't want to kill them—I would've made it into Erudite. I run after them because I'm curious.

The girl and boy sprint out of the doors, and I run after them, as fast as I can. Unlike most earthquakes, this one doesn't get softer as we run, it stays exactly as powerful the farther away I run.

The two people dodge the falling debris. In the distance I can see a building crumbling. The boy looks like he's guiding the girl as they run. They turn into a street and I run after them. They're faster than most people I've met. But they're meant to be dead.

I stop in the alley. They ran into it from the street. The ground has stopped shaking beneath my feet. "Hello?" I call. "I'm alone—I don't have a gun. I'm unarmed. I . . . I'm just curious."

"Curious?" comes a voice from behind me. I swing around and see the girl leaning on the wall. "So . . . what are you curious about?"

"You know that's a really random way to start a conversation," comes another voice. I swing to my left and see the boy leaning on the other side of the alley. I hold up my hands. "I'm unarmed, okay? Where are you from?"

I take a step back. The girl looks at me with a raised eyebrow. "How old are you? You look like you're twelve, but . . . your eyes have seen too much for a kid."

How could she know that? How could she _possibly _know what I have seen? "I'm sixteen," I say. "My name's Tris Prior, and I'm Divergent."

"Divergent?" the girl asks. "Well, Tris, my name's Annabeth. My friend over there is Percy. We're both sixteen too. We've . . . I guess we could say we've seen and done more than we should have, as well."

They don't seem very scary anymore. I realise that they're not bad, they're not violent, they don't want to kill me. "I was born in Abnegation," I continue. Suddenly I want their trust. Dead or not, I don't want harm to befall them. I want to have . . . friends. I want to have some more like Christina, ones that don't have grudges against me, ones that can never truly forgive me.

"But I chose Dauntless. The boy with me, Tobias, he's my boyfriend. I've lost a lot of friends recently. One just earlier today."

Images of Lynn sprawled on stretcher, the bullet in her stomach flashes through my mind. Annabeth cocks her head slightly. "I know that feels."

I glance at Percy. He's staring at the wall. "Where are we?" he asks.

"We're in Erudite. Most of us here are from Dauntless—the faction that values bravery. Abnegation valued selflessness, Amity, the farthest faction, values kindness, and Candor values honesty. My brother . . . he was a member of Erudite. He turned out to support Jeanine, the one who was using me as a guinea pig for a bit."

Percy flinches at the mention of guinea pigs. I think maybe the mention of Caleb supporting Jeanine would shock them, but they just look down.

Percy takes something from his pocket—a pen. "What are you fighting?" he asks. "I mean . . . a bunch of armed adults and you're not fighting?"

I rub my hands together. It's getting cold, and thunder rumbles in the distance. "We were fighting Jeanine. The Erudite that want power. That's why they were calling me a traitor. I tried to stop them killing Jeanine. She had information on her computer . . . one that was so important that most of Abnegation died trying to get it out into the open. Except Tori killed her. Then Caleb . . . my brother, he found the file . . . after Tobias threatened him, of course."

Annabeth twirls some hair in her fingers. "Who's side are you on, Tris?"

I want to answer, but I don't know, really. The only answer I can think of is, "Whichever one holds the truth."

Annabeth nods. "Percy, what do you think?"

Percy's green eyes turn to me. I don't know why, but both of their eyes . . . they're too bright to be normal. They're almost . . . powerful.

"I think she's okay," he says. "At least, she hasn't tried to kill us yet."

"We can't die."

Percy's eyes lose focus. "Then what's the point of living?"

I'd never thought like that. I can hear shouts coming our way. "You should go," I say. "Quick, before—"

"Tris," Tobias's voice comes. I swallow. "What are you doing?" he asks, firmer.

I turn to him. "They're not enemies," I say. I can feel his breath on the back of my head. More footsteps are coming this way. Rain starts to fall.

"Why? Why can we trust them?"

I turn to him. "I'm unarmed, they can't die, and yet I'm alive."

"Jeanine didn't kill you at first either."

I clench my jaw. In one smooth movement, Tobias's arm comes out and sweeps me behind him as he pulls his gun. "Come on," he says. For some reason, that makes both Annabeth and Percy cringe.

"Come—before you have people shooting you all over the place."

Annabeth and Percy share a look. Then people swarm into the alley, and then I lost sight of them.

They didn't call out once.

* * *

Annabeth was frozen. Spiders. Spiders everywhere. Worse than when she'd found the map in Charleston. There was no burning mark to clear them away. They crawled up her ankles. She screamed. They crawled to up to her hips. She swatted them wanted them _gone. _

"Leave me alone!" she screamed. "Go away!"

She closed her eyes as the spiders crawled up her chest to her neck.

Then there was nothing. She opened her eyes and saw herself in a chair. Three armed guards looked at her. Tears began to run down her face. Spiders. She'd been crawled on by spiders. They were crawling to her face. . . .

A face looked down at her. "Definitely Divergent," it said. She didn't know that face. It was long and pale, with a mane of rusty curled hair with some five o'clock shadow.

The guards came and unrestrained her. They gripped her by the upper arm and dragged her through the corridors over rough stone ground. As the doors opened for her, she heard Percy.

"Annabeth!" he screamed. She looked up to see him trying to break free of his guards. They held him back. She wanted to say something, like, "I'm okay, Seaweed Brain," but she couldn't get her mouth to work. The memory of the spiders was still fresh in her mind. Little black things . . . she could almost imagine Arachne's voice egging them on. _Onwards, my children! Avenge me! Get the traitor of our kind! Trickster! Cheater! No better than your mother!_

Tears ran down her face. She looked at Percy. She'd been scared. He could only stare at her, brow creased as he watched her being dragged away. As she was going farther away he started struggling again, but he was dragged into the room Annabeth had just come from.

_Percy. _She thought. That thought filled her with strength. In one swift movement she yanked her arms free and began to run back, but a loud bang sounded and she fell. A burning pain ran through the back of her thigh.

She lay on the ground, it was like lightning had spread through her body, a burning pain that erased everything else from her mind. She closed her eyes. She'd been shot. _Go away, _she thought.

The pain began to dim. Her leg was slick with blood. She got to her knees, and then was grabbed and dragged away.

She watched the doors get further and further away. They were taking her away from Percy.

Gaea had failed that. Humans had done it so easily.

Annabeth sat on the slim mattress the Dauntless had given her. She sat in silence. She was alone.

"Annabeth?"

Annabeth knew that voice. She looked up. There was a small girl with short blonde hair at the door. "It's me—Tris."

Annabeth stared at her blankly. She knew who she was, but she couldn't bring herself to show any emotion. She'd fought for so long with Percy . . . even when she was dead. How was she meant to calmly take his absence now?

She nodded. Tris looked to her left. "Let me in."

"Prisoners—"

"I'll be a prisoner in _that cell!_" Tris yelled. "What difference does it make whether I'm alone or with company?"

The door was thrown open, and Tris came in. She stopped before Annabeth. Then she crouched. "Art you okay?"

"Is Percy?"

"I don't know . . . I heard some commotion before. They're afraid of him, I think."

Annabeth sunk back against the wall. "They should be . . . what about you? Why isn't your boyfriend looking after you?"

"He can't," Tris said sadly. "He wants to . . . but he's a Dauntless leader. If he gets me out . . . then he'll look bad, and he'll be kicked from his spot, and then Dauntless will never know order."

"You're allowed to sit next to me, you know. I'm not an alien."

Tris shuffled in next to her. "You know, you're like me. You're Divergent—people see that as bad here. Like they can catch Divergence."

"Huh," Annabeth said numbly. "Compared to my old life—this is boring."

"What could be worse than this?"

"Tartarus. Friends at war with each other. Death around every corner. . . . I guess this could be relaxing."

"They said you were afraid of spiders."

Annabeth stiffened. "That's not something I tell anyone."

"I'm not _anyone._"

"I don't tell people, then."

"My friend's afraid of moths," Tris shrugged. "I'm afraid of crows."

"I fit right in, then."

Tris shrugged. "If we're lucky, Tobias can get us out of here by tomorrow."

"I thought you said—"

"Tobias is clever. He'll use the video to help us."

"No—help _you._"

"Then I'll ask him to help you too."

"If they're afraid of Percy, I have no chance."

Tris paused. "Are you and Percy together? I mean, it's not my place, but—"

"Yeah, we are. Since last year. He's been missing for the last eight months. I found him not long ago . . . his birthday's in about two weeks."

"Oh."

Annabeth gazed over her knees. "Why do you think they're afraid of him?"

"Everyone in this . . . _place _we call a society is afraid of things they can't control."

Annabeth raised a dry smile. "Might as well try and control the ocean."

"What?"

"Never mind," Annabeth said smoothly. "But . . . why is this so important? The video, I mean."

"It said there was a world beyond the gates of Amity. The Dauntless have been guarding them for as long as we can remember. And then that video . . . it said that the world was still out beyond those gates."

Annabeth processed that. "You could be an experiment, is what you're saying. Something to get peace."

"Yeah. We could have. The adults that were first moved here—their memories were wiped."

_Wiped. _

Annabeth had a sickening feeling in her stomach. "If that's the truth, what have you been taught?"

"That the only thing beyond those gates is death."

"Are those gates anything like doors?"

Annabeth closed her eyes.

_Like the Doors of Death. _

* * *

***dramatic music***

**Yay! Now, what shall I do now?**

**Well, there will be a few random chapters . . . and then we shall address the gates from Amity!**

**And yes, Christina will be in this. **

**Should I write some stuff from Percy's POV? Maybe even the people on the other side of the Doors?**

**I have a good idea where I want this story to go, so please be patient while I get there!**

**Please R&R,**

**-Owl**


	3. Chapter 3

**Well, I am still going!**

**Chapter 3. Hope you enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: DO I LOOK LIKE A REAL AUTHOR?**

* * *

**_Chapter 9: Danger, Danger, Stranger Danger_**

I sit next to Annabeth as we wait for something to happen. Annabeth doesn't say much, she's just thoughtful. I haven't met someone like her before, which interests me.

After a few hours Tobias is at the door. "Tris, come on—you're allowed out now."

I'm reluctant to leave, but Annabeth sends me a look, to tell me to go.

I nod. "Nice meeting you."

Annabeth gives a small smile. "You too, Tris."

I walk out as a Dauntless guard locks the door behind me. Tobias grabs my elbows and steers me along the compound. "Tris, you have to stay as far away from them as possible."

I can hear the fear in his voice now. Why does he care?

"Why?" I ask. "They're just some kids—the same age as us."

Tobias shakes his head. "The girl, Annabeth, her results of the simulation were put through a computer and they told us her aptitude results."

I stop. Realisation settles over me like a sickening blanket, suffocating me. "What about them?"

Tobias looks around to make sure we're alone. His voice lowers. "She got an aptitude in every faction—she was smart, and she's selfless. She's fiercely brave, and she's kind—and she can me honest. That's what makes her so strange. And then . . . they took a blood sample . . . she's different—not entirely human."

"_What?" _I nearly scream. That's impossible. _Impossible._

"And her friend—Percy, he's even stranger. He got the same aptitude as her, and when he went into the simulation, he came out in thirty seconds, and things began to explode in the room."

"You mean . . . you think they're _alien?_"

Tobias looked away. "I wouldn't say that, but they're different. We have to know more."

I look at the ground. My Erudite aptitude takes over. "Was there any similarities in the things that he made explode?"

Tobias looks at my face, like I have caught a deadly virus. "He made the glass of water explode, and the syringe with some simulation serum still in it explode also. They're different—and dangerous."

"How would you know?"

Tobias lowers his voice even more. "He bashed up Peter pretty bad."

I freeze. _Peter? _Peter was someone even Tobias struggled to hold his own against. How could Percy have done that? They couldn't die, but they could still feel pain, be put under simulations . . . I didn't understand these things.

"Tobias, I think we have to make them realise that we're an enemy."

Tobias steers me back to his room faster, almost jogging. "How do we know that we're not, though? Jeanine wasn't technically an enemy—she just wanted to know things, however dangerous. Are they an enemy? Do they have _violent maniacs _written on their foreheads? Do _we_?"

He pushes me down on his bed and looms over me. "Tris, what are we going to do about this?"

I rest my chin on my palms. "What about the video?"

Tobias shrugs. "No one wants to believe it, so there's nothing happening at the moment. I'm trying to get a search party over there just to have a look. But . . . Tori isn't letting anyone near it."

I look down. "These kids . . . I think they're connected."

Tobias throws his hands up in frustration. "Tris, the kids are just kids, they're something else to the problems we're having, okay? We have to worry about them later."

I fall back on the bed and cover my eyes with my hands. "What about Caleb? What's happened to him?"

Tobias doesn't say anything for a while. "He's in the same cell with that boy. He's an Erudite traitor, and we figured that if the kid killed him no biggie—I mean, apart from your brother, and that he would—"

"Tobias," I say firmly. "My brother aided Jeanine with the barbaric research she did on me. He's as much of a traitor to me as to you, okay? But, if he's with this kid . . . what do we do? What if he _does _die? We can't kill that boy for his crimes, can we?"

I uncover my eyes and look up at him. Tobias's eyes lose focus. "I guess not."

Someone knocks on the door. Tobias walks over and opens it. It's Christina.

"Um . . . hi—I need to talk to Tris."

I get up and walk over. Christina has her hands clasped over her chest and is twisting her fingers so much it looks painful.

"Yes?" I ask.

Christina looks at me, and then glances at Tobias. "Oh," I said. "Um, I'll be back later, Tobias," I say. I can imagine him shooting me a stubborn look, but I walk out the door and close it behind me.

Christina and I walk through the same corridors I went through just a moment before with Tobias. She leads me to the cells. 'Your brother," she says while walking. "He's in the same cell as that boy. He, um, doesn't get along very well with him."

"What do you mean?"

"Well," she says with finality. "Have a look."

I look through the door and see Percy with his head in his hands. Caleb's shooting questions at him, many like, _are you human? What are you? Where are you from? How did you beat up that guy? Have you murdered before? Are there any contributing factors that make you what you are?_

"Caleb," I say sharply. He looks up, and then takes a look of shame. "Look, Tris, I—"

Percy looks up. "Please make him shut up," he says. "He's driving me mad."

"Then why don't you make things explode?" Caleb asks with his annoying curiosity. I bite my tongue. I want to hear the answer too.

"Number one, I don't hate you _that _much, number two, I'm not a homicidal maniac; and number three, if I do then there's no way I'll ever get out of this cell."

For some reason I find that response slightly funny. I smile. "There, Caleb, your question's answered. Now be quiet. What have you heard about Percy's aptitude tests results?"

"Don't mention the word _test, _please," Percy says. "Then I'll start worrying about that last Math test."

Caleb looks at him like he's speaking gibberish. Then back at me. I see something in his eyes that takes me a moment to figure out. He's afraid of me. He's afraid that Jeanine tried and failed to find a way to control me. He's scared of _me. _

"No?" I say. "Well, you and Percy have some catching up to do."

Percy lifts a finger. "Okay, I have _never _met this guy before, so I don't need to _catch up _with him. Secondly, can't I go in the cell with Annabeth? At least I'd enjoy that."

I smirk slightly. Christina stands behind me. "Is Annabeth your girlfriend?"

Percy eyes her. "Would it make a difference?" he asks. "Besides, it's better than Nosy over here."

"I am not _nosy,_" Caleb states. "I'm—"

"_Very _nosy," I say. I glare at him. I will never forgive him for working with Jeanine. I couldn't care less about me, but he helped her in the threats. He helped in Marlene's death. I will never forgive him for that. _Never._

Caleb sets his mouth and glares at me. "What are you getting at?"

Percy raises an eyebrow at us. "Dude, can't people even insult each other without starting a fight here? Jeez."

"I'm sorry," I say stiffly. "But my brother and I have something more than just insults going on here."

If Percy is surprised to find out that Caleb is my brother, he doesn't show it. "Like what?"

I pointed at Caleb. "That _boy _caused the death of one of my best friends!"

Caleb's eyes narrow. He's about to say something, but I cut him off. "If you are going to say that it was necessary for the pursuit of knowledge then you are a lying murderer! You aided Jeanine in her simulations that then caused Marlene to jump off this building to her death! You caused _so _much pain that I will _never _forgive you. Neither would mom or dad."

He's about to yell, to roll up his shirt sleeves and advance on me with anger, despite the fact that I could beat him in two seconds, but Percy is then standing over him. His fists are balled and he's trembling. "You caused the death of an _innocent_?" he asks.

I don't want to see what Percy can do. I jump between him and Caleb. I look up at Percy's tight face. "Yes, he did—but you killing him won't help. He deserves to be punished, but not by you. You had no part in this—this is something the people of Dauntless have to do."

Percy stops trembling. He straightens. "Okay," he says.

He doesn't say anything else. He goes and leans on the opposite wall. Then he looks back at me. "Why did this person die?"

I take a step away from Caleb before I can punch him. "Jeanine wanted to control the Divergent. The simulations—they have no effect on those with Divergence. The regular people were effected, they were put under a trance, so to speak. They were unable to control what their bodies were doing. She had three kids up on the roof, and they said that until a Divergent went to the Erudite compound, three kids would jump off the buildings to die. I was up there with Christina; we could only save two of the three. Marlene jumped. She was liked by everyone . . ."

I ball my fists to keep them from shaking. Tears well in my eyes. I swallow them down. I am strong, I tell myself. I am brave.

Percy looks up at the ceiling. "I guess I know what it's liked to be under a simulation, then."

"How?" I ask. "You're Divergent."

"I am?" he asks. Then his face darkens slightly. "Not a simulation, but I know what it's like to not be able to control what I'm doing. To be controlled—mind you, those are impossible to escape."

I look at him closer. I can see his numerous scars that he refuses to tell anyone about, and I can see his eyes. They're different to most eyes. They seem . . . unpredictable.

I walk back to Christina. "Well," I say, glancing back. "Annabeth says hi."

It's a lie, but if I had told Annabeth that I would have the chance to talk to Percy, I guess she would've asked me to tell him hi, so I do. He smiles a bit, then his expression sours as he looks at Caleb. "I'll try not to kill him," he says. "But I don't get on well with people who cause unnecessary deaths."

I nod. Neither do I.

* * *

Annabeth had sat in her cell for the gods know how long. They'd taken blood samples from her, that she knew. She knew that what they'd found scared them. It should have—half blood, half ichor. She was Divergent. She had a vague feeling that that meant she didn't fit the factions this place was supposedly made up of.

Tris had seemed nice enough. Just Annabeth was _bored. _Not to mention haunted by those images of the spiders crawling up her. She shuddered. Then the door unlocked. Tris and another girl stood there. "Hi," Annabeth said. She opened her arms out. "Come to see the creature in captivity?"

Tris smiled a bit at that; the other girl behind her not so much. She had short dark hair that fell to her shoulders. "Um, Annabeth, this is Christina," Tris said.

"Hello," Annabeth said dully. She dropped her arms. "So . . . what brings you here?"

"Well," Tris said. "Um . . . do you know any ways to make Percy calm down?"

Annabeth was suddenly alert. "Someone made him _mad_?"

Tris and Christina shared a look. "Yeah. Caleb. He . . . he was partly responsible for the death of a friend."

Annabeth understood why Percy was mad. "Wait," she said. "You put Percy _in the same cell _with this guy?"

Tris nodded.

"Okay," Annabeth said, her eyes wide. "Um . . . blue food? Word of advice: stop him from getting mad, or this whole place could collapse on us."

Tris paled in shock. Then she nodded.

"Okay. I'd change his cell . . . but the Dauntless kind of _want _Caleb dead."

Annabeth shook her head. "He does _not _want to die from Percy—trust me."

Tris looked at the guard. "I might be able to get him over here."

Annabeth suddenly felt happy. "What?" she asked. "I mean—seriously? That's great!"

Christina frowned quizzically. "Tris, are you sure . . . ?"

Annabeth got to her feet. "Well, I could go in there and . . . _restrain _the guy, if you want."

Tris shrugged. "It's probably better to get Caleb away. If Percy _did _kill Caleb, then he'd be charged with getting himself tangled up in Dauntless affairs. So no, I'll try and get him over here."

The two girls disappeared as the door closed behind them. Annabeth paced the dark room. Percy might end up in here with her . . . no more spiders . . .

The door opened again and Percy was standing there. Christina was holding a gun to his back. "Sorry," she said. "Standard procedure for transporting prisoners."

Annabeth rand forward and hugged him. "You okay?" he asked. Annabeth nodded. "You?"

He shrugged. Annabeth looked back at Tris and Christina. "Thanks a million," she said. "And Tris—sorry about getting you into this mess."

Tris smiled. "It's nice to have some non-death influenced excitement for a change."

Even Christina smiled a bit. "Nice meeting you two."

The door was closed and bolted behind them. Annabeth stood there with Percy. "I hear you got mad."

He sighed. "Yeah, I did. He caused the death of an _innocent._"

Annabeth let out a deep breath. "That's something worth getting mad about, but this isn't our problem, no matter how vile and act it was, okay? So—what happened with _your _simulations?"

He shrugged. "Few explosions, a guy attempted to knock me out . . . one that was dragging you away . . . and I, uh, lost it . . . so yeah."

Annabeth leaned back on the wall and slid down it to the floor. Percy sat down next to her. "What was your simulation?" she asked him.

He looked at the floor sadly. "I saw myself letting you go into Tartarus. I felt so real . . . and then I realised it was false. I would _never _have done that."

Annabeth felt guilty for her fear of spiders. She leaned onto Percy. "I guess you know what I saw, then."

"Spiders?"

"Yeah."

He rubbed her shoulder. "Everyone has something they're afraid of, Annabeth. Before I met you—I was terrified of this guy that went along the hall of the building at three in the morning and would bang on the door as he went past. . . . Then I went on a quest and that was set straight."

Annabeth let out a shuddering breath as an image of spiders crawling up her neck flashed to mind. She scowled and swallowed it down. No phobias for you, missy.

"Why are we here, Percy?" she asked. "What have we gotten ourselves into?"

Percy gave a crooked smile. "I actually don't know—but what I do know is that we never have anything happen to us without a reason."

Annabeth gave a slightly hysteric laugh. "Got that right, Seaweed Brain."

She could imagine him grinning. "My day has just gotten normal again."

* * *

**Dun-dunn-dunnn!**

**I'm sorry, but I enjoy writing about a moody Percy, okay? Is that bad? I think it is . . .**

**ANYWAYS, stay tuned for the next chapter! Feel free to give ideas! I have a basic plot idea, but anything minor you have for how they get through Dauntless - go for it!**

**Please R&R,**

**-Owl**


	4. Chapter 4

**Da-da-da-da**

**We have Chapter 4!**

**Yay!**

**Okay, please enjoy - oh, and sorry about the short chapter, but I'm going to make it that yes, you will have to wait a while for the next chapter, but it shall be at least ten pages - that's easier than you'd think to write.**

**Okay, onwards!**

**Disclaimer: I LOOK LIKE RICK OR VERONICA?**

* * *

**_Chapter 4: Answers to Questions_**

I walk through the Pit, looking for Tori.

I'm stupid, doing this—the woman wants me dead. But she can't kill me without committing murder, or without Tobias trying to kill her for killing me, and there's the fact that there's proof I wasn't a Dauntless traitor.

I see her—leaning on the railing of the chasm as water drenches her. I gulp and walk over.

She doesn't look at me. "What do you want?" she asks.

I lean on the railing. "The video. What are you going to do?"

She scowls; then turns to glare at me. "Your boyfriend is having a search party go to Amity."

She basically spits the world _boyfriend _at me. I straighten, even if she is a good two feet taller than me. "Then what about the two prisoners?"

She reaches up and twists a piercing between her fingers. "They'll have to stay there."

I ball my fists. I know I'm overreacting, but the kids are being treated like aliens. They're not, though—I spoke to them like a normal person!

"The video said when the Divergent are abundant," I state to her. "They have the strongest Divergence ever recorded. Maybe that means something."

She turns to look at me. I can see the anger in her eyes. "Then what do you propose we do, then? You heard what happened in the simulations—the boy blew things up. We can't have that going around freely."

"But they are still _people. _Just . . . let them out. They haven't done anything to hurt other people."

"Oh really?" Tori sneers. "Did you hear what happened to that Peter boy?"

I want to answer that I don't, but I do. "Yes."

She looks back at the churning water. "And you still think we can trust them?"

"Yes, I do." I say defiantly. She raises an eyebrow. "And you would know, would you?"

I look away. "No, I wouldn't. But they have the same intentions as us!" I whip back to Tori. "They want to know what's beyond the gates of Amity, they don't want to kill people."

Tori sighs. "Tris, you aren't the brightest person."

"Have you met them yet?" I ask, trembling with anger. Why were people so stubborn? Can't she see that they are just normal people? Even if they _are _different, maybe aliens, why does that mean that they are not humane?

"No, I haven't," Tori says. She stands up off the rails. "And since you're so stubborn to have them released to wreak havoc, then I might as well go with you to see them."

She gets her crutches and begins to walk after me.

I lead her through the compound to their cell. The guard nods at Tori and begins to unlock the door. When I look inside, I see two people looking up at me. Their eyes aren't hungry like most prisoners, eager for blood, they're just normal eyes. Maybe curious eyes. I step aside for Tori to see.

"Hello," she says, stiffer than casually. Annabeth nods. "Hello."

"Hi," says Percy. Tori looks back at me. "Look can be deceiving."

I shrug. "Well, looks aren't everything."

She seems to understand that. She hobbles into the cell. I go after her.

"Tris here is saying that you're humane enough to be released into the compound."

Annabeth cocks her head and frowns. "Um . . . okay."

Percy's looking from me to Tori, as if wondering whether we're going to kill them or actually mean what we say. I would be doing the same thing.

Annabeth gets to her feet. Percy does also. Annabeth wipes her hand on her jeans and then sticks it out. "Annabeth, nice to meet you."

Tori lets go of one of her crutches and shakes it. "Tori, Dauntless leader."

Percy then sticks out his hand after Annabeth has let go. "Percy."

It strikes me that Percy may not be known that much for his brains.

**(A/N: hey, it's true, okay? That's why he's Annabeth's boyfriend. And there's a reason he's been named "Seaweed Brain".)**

Tori shakes his hand and then lets go. She looks back at me and sighs. "Come on—Tris, get your . . . do you have a gun? No. Use that knife to transport them. The guard can come too."

A smile spreads across my face at my victory. I walk behind Percy and Annabeth. The guard looks at us with sceptically, but then shrugs and points the barrel of his gun at Percy's back. Why no one is thinking that Annabeth is the bigger threat scares me. She knows how to win a fight, and how to get Percy under enough control so that victory in inevitable. She knows how to hide those abilities very well, too. I have yet to meet someone like her in this country.

I see that Annabeth is gripping Percy's hand. I see just how scarred those hands are. I want to ask how they got them, but I can't bring myself to. They look like something that they want to forget. To move on from.

Very few of us can appreciate those feelings, I have realised.

We walk out into the Pit, and every conversation suddenly stops. Someone runs towards me. "Tris!" he yells. Tobias.

I shoot him a nervous smile. "Hi," I whisper. He pulls his gun out and slides in next to me. "Put your knife away," he says. I slip my knife back into my pocket.

Annabeth is looking at us. She then turns away and whispers something to Percy. I can tell by the way he stoops down to hear it. When he straightens, I can see a smile on his face. I wonder what it is that she said.

"Tori, have you lost your mind?" shrieks someone. Tori turns and glares in that direction. "No, I haven't," she says coldly. "But Miss Prior here said that these two were sane and not aliens, therefore they would be okay to walk around the compound. We're testing her theory."

There are several mutterings and murmurs, more than one insult thrown in my direction, but I ignore them. I am right, I am right, I tell myself. Tobias squeezes my hand for reassurance.

Tori leads us to the initiate training rooms. There are two people in the ring—Christina and Uriah.

They throw punches at each other, and Tori turns back to us. "You two—Tobias, since he is the instructor, can see what you can do. I need to have a word with Miss Prior."

Something about the way she says this makes me think that this isn't a friendly chat.

Tori and I stood watching Tobias demonstrate how to use the gun. "I believe I have thought of something," she says. "If the area beyond the gates needs fighting, then we can use them—the boy makes things explode. If they die, they die—which we can't figure out how to do anyway—and if we need them, then we use them."

"You want to _use _them?" I say. "You want _them _to keep _us _alive, so that they can most likely die."

Tori nods. "Yes." She turns and sees my look of disgust and smirks. "In this ruthless world, is there any room left for mercy?"

"Yes," I say stiffly. "Amity."

Tori snorts. "Amity has a more violent past then you'd think, Tris."

"Oh? Enlighten me."

Tori narrows her eyes at me. "Ever wonder where Johanna got that scar?"

Yes, I do. I do wonder where and how she got it. But why does that matter?

"What does it matter? We have a world beyond the gates of Amity that has to be opened, and we have to get to it."

Tori takes out a pocket knife and runs her finger along the flat of the blade. "Amity was foundered by those who blamed the lack of kindness. Therefore it was natural for the merciless to end up there. Johanna Reyes was a juvenile delinquent before she ended up there. Got into a knife fight over stolen goods. She got the scar, the other got death."

I don't respond. I should be shocked, but it makes perfect sense to me.

"The Erudite then dumped her in Amity to get her straight. Seems that it worked, but you can never be too careful. It's hard to lose the old ways."

"What do you mean?"

Tori leans back against the wall. "Three years ago someone stumbled across Johanna's past. You can guess what happened to them, can't you? Of course, the Erudite saw her as the threat she was, and dumped her in there to get her straight, _supposedly, _what they were actually doing was getting her stuck. She gets to the so-called 'speaker'of Amity, and becomes insignificant, except when it's her turn to 'speak', in which she has to say what Amity has decided, and if she doesn't, someone figures out who she is, gets it bad, and it's made public—which means the end of the road for her."

"That doesn't sound like the Johanna I know."

"Johanna was always smart, that's why she was Divergent, but what I'm saying is that she can _act, _that she can get what she wants. I'm saying she's a threat."

"That's why she wanted Marcus to tell her what that video—"

"Was about and why it was so important. She would have that information; then get Amity in a fix about unkindness, and then that would be stopped, and she would have that information for herself, which meant that _she _could go out there, die or live, and find out what was so important."

"So now _we _want to know what was so important."

Tori nods. "These two—we need all we can get, even if we can't trust them."

"So are they allowed out or not?"

Tori picks at her cuticles. "I'll let them out with a guard. Care to be that person?"

I smile. "Yes, I do. Where are they going to stay? You can't expect them to stay in their cells."

Tori waves a hand. "They can stay in the initiate training rooms. Or somewhere else. That is not an issue right now. What we need to do is get out of those gates, and those two can help us."

"Just because you are agreeing to this idea doesn't mean others will."

Tori gives a slight smile. "I don't think death is something to be afraid of in this world, Tris. It comes like a blessing to those who deserve it."

I look back to Tobias and see him looking irritably at me. Obviously he has been trying to get my attention. Annabeth and Percy are smirking. I shrug and walk over. One thing accomplished, probably with dire consequences.

* * *

Annabeth watched as Tris walked over. Tobias had been trying to get her attention for the last five minutes, but she was in _such _deep conversation with Tori that she had ignored him completely.

"Now that you're back on earth," Tobias said. "Can you show these two how to throw knives?"

Tris sent him a half-hearted glare and pulled out a pocket knife. She smiled. "Think I can do it backwards?"

Annabeth didn't think that Tris had this humour in her. Maybe she was different with her boyfriend.

Tobias rolled his eyes. Tris lifted her arm up and then swung the knife at the target behind her.

The knife sailed through the air and hit the ring outside the bullseye. Tris stuck her tongue out at him. "I should have made a bet."

Annabeth smiled. She liked this Tris better.

She was about to say something, when a girl's voice yelled out, "Yes! Take that, Uriah!"

Annabeth looked over to the ring. The boy—she assumed that Uriah, seeing as Christina had her arms ever so conspicuously thrown up in victory—was getting to a sitting position. He ran the back of his hand over his mouth. "Fine, you win."

Annabeth wondered what level of friendliness this was. She had a feeling that Clarisse would be in heaven over here.

Tobias turned to her. "Would you like to try throwing knives now?"

Annabeth shrugged and took the knife he was holding out. Without a second thought she hurtled it at the target.

It hit the bullseye with such force that it stayed. The boy in the ring whistled through his teeth. "She's better than you, Four."

Tobias raised an eyebrow at him. "I thought you were calling me Tobias."

Uriah shrugged. "Four suits you better."

Annabeth was grinning proudly as she turned back to them. "Better than your last one, Seaweed Brain."

"I had Clarisse after me."

"Yeah, right," Annabeth muttered.

She watched as Percy threw a knife at the target. The good thing was that it hit the bullseye, the bad thing was that her knife was in the way, so it hit the handle of hers and then bounced off.

"That's depressing," Annabeth said, grinning so that she was not in any way sympathetic. Percy shot her a 'very funny' look. Tobias and Tris were standing there, speechless. Percy raised an eyebrow at them. "We have thrown knifes before, you know."

Annabeth nodded,stifling a laugh. "And _you, _Percy, have blown up schools, killed _loads _of monsters, and fought gods, giants—"

Percy's face darkened. "We can leave out the giants."

Annabeth stopped. "Oh," she didn't realise that they'd driven Percy so far over the edge. She'd have to ask him about that later. She plastered on a smile, trying to pick up the conversation. "And you've failed at archery, and now you're thrown knives."

Percy gave a small smile. "You forgot being a guinea pig."

Both Tris and Tobias were looking from Percy to Annabeth like a tennis game. Annabeth gave them a quizzical look. "Um . . . okay," she waved a hand in front of Tris's face. "Back to earth now?"

Tris smiled sheepishly. Tobias narrowed his eyes at them. Was it just Annabeth, or did this guy trust _no one_?

Tori came down on her crutches. "Well, Four, where do you think we can get these two to stay?"

Tobias looked at her and Percy warily. "I don't know, ask Harrison."

Tori shrugs, and then the four of them began to walk away. As they walked past Tori, she garbbed Tris's arm. Annabeth looked back and heard Tori whisper to Tris, "Jeanine was right, you do always end up getting what you want."

Before Annabeth could wonder what she meant, Tris yanked her arm free and kept walking. Annabeth had a feeling that that was a subject that Tris didn't want to share.

Annabeth had quite a few of those.

* * *

**Yay!**

**Yeah, um . . . so, we have the next chapter ON THE WAY!**

**Sorry, I'm a bit high . . .**

**Um, so what did you think of the positive Tris?**

**I wanted to give her character development, you know? Because, is there any way to be negative with Percy and Annabeth? Well, unless you're Clarisse, but yeah?**

**And I figured that Tris has to have ****_some _****positive moiments, and who doesn't get slightly happy with competition? Or it coukd just be some of the fact that the two people's POV's have boyfriends . . . but yeah . . .**

**You don't hate me for making Johanna evil do you? I was just thinking about her character, and I was like: YES! SHE SHALL BE EVIL!**

**She has an exciting role to play in this though!**

**Okay, a heads up:**

**Next chapter has Percy's POV, seeing as that's how Rick does it - four of each, y'know?**

**And, um . . . are there any ideas or suggestions for this story? Like, I have a plan, but minor things I am happy to oblige!**

**Okay, I just want to know:**

**What do you think about Blackjack being in this story?**

**I'm sorry, but I love the dude!**

**That's ehy I wrote a story and some more about him . . .**

**And there'll be a next one of that, too . . .**

**Anyway, please R&R,**

**-Owl**


	5. Chapter 5

**Yay! I'm still alive!**

**Sorry about disappearing for the week . . . yeah . . .**

**Anywhoo, I have a twelve-page chapter ready for you!**

**I apologize in advance for how much I use the phrase 'shuddering breath'. Sorry.**

**Um . . . I had this crazy idea about putting the Hunters in . . .**

**I was in a crazy mood . . . and on a sugar high . . .**

**Reply to Reviews:**

**Spontaneous me: With the "over the edge" thing, you'll have to wait and see. Yes, I have a good idea about that . . .**

***Gives evil smile***

**WaterAndWisdom: writing as fast as I can! I have two stories, remember?**

**emnem512: Here you are!**

**BlackAngelWings1010: thanks! I have very few people loving me . . . here is your update!**

**Please remember that suggestions are taken seriously, and you could end up with it in the story!**

**Just . . . no ****_major _****things, you know? Because I have a great idea for that . . . *evil smile again***

**(Cat, you were lucky to miss it.)**

**ENJOY!**

**Disclaimer: DO I LOOK MIDDLE-AGED TO YOU? WELL, I AM NOT!**

* * *

**_Chapter 5: Newcomers, Divergent_**

Percy and Annabeth are quiet people, I realise. There is so much that I want to ask them, but I don't, because they look fragile. They look like they have seen a lot, and of things that haunt them today. I can see Annabeth gripping Percy's hand. Maybe each other is the only thing they know to be certain in this world, or whatever world they came from.

I wonder is their world is as shattered as ours is.

Tobias takes my hand as the odd person yells out an insult at me. There are people out there that are too stubborn to see the truth from lies.

Maybe people like me.

I see someone fighting their way through the crowd. Harrison.

He has a new piercing in his nose and is a lot angrier than usual. "Tori!" he yells, coldly. "Yes?" Tori replies, with three times as much venom as him.

Me, Tobias, Annabeth and Percy all stop to see what Harrison has to say. Is he drunk? He's usually nicer.

Nice. I can't count on people being nice, not even Amity, after Johanna's story was revealed to me.

"_Are you out of you mind_?" he yells. "These—these _aliens _allowed to go around the compound _free_?"

Tori straightens and narrows her eyes at him, every word she says is laced with venom. "Sometimes you have to take risks, Harrison. We are Dauntless, after all. If they attack, they attack and meet the brunt of Dauntless, of they don't, then we take them as allies. You never know how many you need to go beyond the gates."

Harrison throws his hands up in exasperation. "But _them? _The boy can make—"

Tori clamps a hand over his mouth. "Private information," she says through gritted teeth.

For once Tori and I are at an agreement. The news about Percy being able to blow things up will shake Dauntless, and that will cause such uproar that we will never have control again. Why is Harrison being so foolish? What has happened to lower him to this?

"They are free as long as they cause no trouble," Tobias says. "If they do, back to the cells."

I can tell that every Dauntless woman, man and child wants to say, "Kill them," but we can't. They are unable to die.

And it is crushing them.

They can't live, they can't die. They are nothing, and yet they are here.

What on earth happened to them?

Harrison glares at Tobias. "And you would know, Four? Or should I say, Tobias?"

Tobias's hand tightens on mind. It's painful, but I don't complain. I know better than to show weakness in a situation like this.

Harrison walks over, looming above us. "You want to know what I think?" he bends down low so that his face is close to Tobias's. Both are glowering with rage at each other. "I think that you are idiots, and that these two should stay locked up! If you don't think I'm right, maybe you should ask your _girlfriend _for her opinion; she seems to make better choices than you."

He turns to me. "Little, itty bitty Tris the Stiff," his eyes narrow as his hand reached out to me, probably to wrap around my throat. "So fragile."

Before anyone can react, he has me. His hand is tight around my throat, pushing the air from my lungs. He hoists me above the ground. My vision goes blurry. I can hear, I can't breathe. All I can feel is the pain shooting through my system. I can feel my heartbeat behind my eyes. Pain is shooting through me, I can feeling myself slipping away, my throat getting crushed, by eyes closing.

Then I pulled forwards and dropped. I'm on my knees and I suck in a breath, a long, hoarse, wheezing breath. Harrison is on his back, obviously knocked out. I cough, what happened?

I glance at Percy and Annabeth. Annabeth is pale. Her hand is outstretched as if to push someone, her palm facing me. Her eyes are filled with horror. Percy is staring at her hand.

Tobias's arms wrap around me. "Tris," he says softly against my hair. "Oh my God, you're alive."

He kisses my hair. I want to tell him I'm okay, but my throat is in so much pain that I can barely do anything. I lift up a shaking hand and grip his shoulder. _I'm alive, I'm alive, _I think. How can I be alive? I was on the brink of death.

I suck in a painful breath, and then let it out. In, out, in out. The Dauntless erupt into chaos. _What happened? That girl, she did something. They're dangerous. What happened to Harrison?_

It's all dim to me. Then I realise my cheeks are wet. I'm crying. I can't cry, I can't show pain. I look up at Percy and Annabeth again. Percy shoots me a "be back later" look, and he and Annabeth run.

How? How can they flee? What bravery is there in that?

But I let it go. I grip Tobias tighter. _I'm alive._

* * *

Percy gripped Annabeth's clammy hand and ran. He had no idea how to get around the compound, but he had to try and get out. He had to get Annabeth away.

What had happened in there? He was about to act, and then Annabeth just made a pushing gesture with her hand and sent him flying. How?

He led her up a corridor. There was a net. He pulled her onto the net and then climbed onto the road above. He reached down and pulled her up. Annabeth was trembling.

Percy placed a hand on each of her shoulders and looked her in the eye. "What happened, Annabeth?"

She started to say something, but then she started to shake so violently that she lost her footing. Percy caught her and she began to cry. He pulled her into a hug and she sobbed onto his shoulder. "I don't know," she said through sobs. "I don't know, I don't know."

Percy could hear voices coming their way. He let Annabeth go. "Come on, we have to go—they're after us."

Annabeth shook her head. "I don't think—"

Gunfire sounded. Percy gripped her hand and ran.

He didn't know where he was going, just _away. _He led her through the maze of buildings and alleys, over shattered glass and guns. Eventually he found a blown open door and pulled her inside. They fell to the ground, panting. "Are you okay?" he asked her.

She took a shuddering breath. "I . . . I think so . . . just . . . I don't know what I did!"

Tears began to leak down her face. She hugged him and cried onto his shoulder. Percy didn't complain; even when her tears soaked through his shirt and began to wet his shoulder. He just held her there, letting her cry it out.

She eventually stopped, but kept letting out shuddering breaths. "What do you think they'll do when they catch us?"

"Whoever said they'd catch us?"

Annabeth sat up and looked him in the eye. "They _will, _Percy. There's only so many places we could've got to."

Percy looked through the window of the building they were in. "Then we'd better hope that we have some time before they do."

Annabeth nodded. "You know," Percy said, turning back to her. "If this place was some stables, and we were about a thousand feet off the ground . . . it wouldn't be too bad."

Annabeth smiled. "Are you thinking what I think you're thinking?"

Percy gave his classic sarcastic grin. "Since when do I think?"

"Oh, I don't know," Annabeth said. "Since when do I kiss you?"

Percy shrugged, his grin getting wider. Annabeth bent down and kissed him.

**(A/N: Sorry, but I was just sitting in front of my computer for ages thinking of how I could bring myself to write that line . . . Cat knows that I have a problem with the "k-word", and I am ****_not _****a sappy writer unless I fair dinkum (I'm an aussie, okay?) ****_force _****myself to be a sappy writer. It's ****_hard, _****and I have a really bad time trying to be sappy . . . would you guess it? Sorry . . . but I thought I'd warn you for the future if there are any rally awkward moments where I'm too chicken to write sappiness. . . . And um, please treat this as like a line-break, okay? Thanks for putting up with me!)**

Percy looked out of the window. Annabeth was pointing at a brick, trying to make it explode. "I think I did something like this before . . . the body mass, and then the slight draught, manipulated with the force of fifty kilos of force from the distance of—"

"Annabeth, I may know many languages, but I don't know the one you're speaking now," he said, still looking out of the window. It had been at least an hour and a half, and already the sky was getting darker. The darkness made him think of his Pegasus, Blackjack. He wondered what the horse was doing now.

"Hey, Percy?" Annabeth asked. "There's meant to be this shiny gun barrel at the door, right? I mean, you said speak English, and this is _your _level of English, starting with the questions—"

"What?" Percy almost yelled, spinning around. Sure enough, there was the barrel of a gun at the door. He took a step forward. "If you're there," he said. "We won't kill you, just please come out."

The gun was lowered, and someone stepped out of the shadows.

It was a girl, maybe thirteen. She had black hair, and an olive complexion. Her eyes were dark, like they were warning you not to mess with her. Percy couldn't help but think of Nico di Angelo.

"Who are you?" she asked. She was wearing a blue t-shirt, black jeans, a dark red jacket and a grey headband. Her hair was tied back in a bun. "I said," she repeated after they didn't answer. "_Who are you?_"

Annabeth got to her feet. "I'm—"

"Fred," Percy jumped in. "I'm Fred, and this is Sophie."

For a split second Annabeth shot him a glance that was more shocked than quizzical, as if saying, _you start thinking like that _now_? _

Percy saw anger flicker in the girl's eyes. Where had he seen that look before . . . ?

The girl slid her gun back in its holster. "One false move," she said. "And your life comes to an abrupt end."

Percy figured she could use that gun pretty well, then. Annabeth glanced from the girl's face to her gun. "What's . . . what's your name?"

The girl eyed them suspiciously. "Amelia. Amelia Angels."

Why the girl had given them her last name actually mystified Percy. Why would she? _Angels._

_Twin's snuff out the angel's breath . . ._

"Hades," he said.

"What?" Annabeth asked. "Per—Fred, what are you talking about?"

"Oh, um . . . you look like someone I know," he said to Amelia. Annabeth's eyes widened. Amelia stood straighter. "I am a member of the factionless, and their leader is Evelyn. As factionless protocol, I have to take you to her."

"But we're not factionless," Percy said. "We . . . we're from Dauntless, but—"

"Dauntless?" Amelia laughed bitterly. "You look more like Abnegation turn-downs."

Percy prayed that this would end. If there was one thing he hated more than interrogations, it was talking to your killer right before you were killed.

Then again, they were already dead.

Percy never thought that he'd take Ares (or Mars, whatever) seriously, but something he'd once said came back to him: _life is only precious because it ends._

His life wouldn't end any more.

So why was it so precious to him?

He sighed. "All right, Sophie isn't Sophie, her name is Annabeth, and mine's Percy. Please take us to Evelyn, if it makes you happy."

Amelia gave them an almost disappointed look and then drew her knife. She jerked her head in the direction of the door. "Out."

Percy felt Annabeth's hand slide into his. He didn't dare look, though. Amelia was giving them a glare worthy of Hades himself. They walked through the door, only to exit just as three Dauntless were coming through. They scowled at Amelia.

"We'll take the prisoners from here," one said, a woman, with stringy blonde hair.

Percy felt the barrel of Amelia's gun lift off her back. "_I _found them."

A Dauntless lifted their rifle. "And _we're _Dauntless. They're _our _prisoners. Hand them over, Factionless."

Percy didn't think that this girl, who was probably only thirteen, was worth being judged because of where she was from. "I am a factionless, I am Divergent. I can do what I want with these!"

At the word "Divergent," some of the Dauntless hesitated. "Mark," said the woman, "maybe the girl can—"

"No," said a man sharply. "Harrison found out that he lost his sister today, and then he was _humiliated _by these _aliens, _they come with us, or they die."

Amelia gave a laugh, a bitter, cold laugh. "Haven't you heard the rumours? Didn't you see for yourself? These two _can't _die. Did that not get through your battered Dauntless heads?"

The man, Mark, took a step forwards. "You insolent—"

He lifted his gun. Percy acted on impulse. He sent one glance at Annabeth, telling her everything he was going to do. She scowled in that split second, and then he acted.

He stepped in the line of the bullet that Mark had fired. He couldn't die, he couldn't die. His body simply _refused _to be killed.

The bullet hit him in the collar bone. Pain shot through him like a lightning bolt, spreading through everything and destroying it all as it went. But he remained on his feet. He couldn't die, his death was impossible, he physically _couldn't _die.

The pain slowed to a throb, and he could stand comfortably again. He saw Annabeth's face looking at him. He gave a grin. "Miss me?"

Annabeth gave him a shove. Percy grinned wider. The Dauntless lowered their guns. "Come or be restrained," the woman said. Percy looked at Annabeth, who nodded defiantly. He looked back to Amelia. She was standing there in shock. Annabeth followed where he was looking. She smiled nervously. "Go home, Amelia," she said. "Just . . . stay safe."

Amelia nodded, still with a slightly gaping mouth. Percy took Annabeth's hand and they followed the Dauntless woman and were followed by the two other Dauntless.

* * *

Tobias is looking at my neck. "You're sure you're okay?" he asked. He's been concerned for the last hour. Even if I am in pain, I'm okay. "Yes," I say. My voice is hoarse, and it sends a feeling like sandpaper down my throat. Tobias frowns, unconvinced.

"You don't have to hide it, Tris," he says, "we're alone. There's no one here."

I shake my head. "If I let it out . . . it will crush me. I won't be able to stop."

I throat is screaming in pain, but I mean what I say. I can't show it, or it will eat away at me until I am nothing at all. I _can't _show it. I have been betrayed by everyone, even Caleb. If I show just how badly I am hurt, how much of me has been reduced to nothing, it will consume me until I am useless, an outer shell of pain and grief. I _have _to keep in check.

Tobias cups my face in his hands. I look up at him. "Tris, how much of you has been hurt?"

I close my eyes. "Nearly everything. The only thing I have left is you."

Tobias sits down next to me and puts his arm on my shoulders. I lean onto him. "Tris," he says. I notice that I like the way he says my name. It's as if he spent hours perfecting that word to match me. He says it like it's his favourite word, but like it's also dangerous, and that he's afraid to lose it. It masks how hollow I have become inside. The way I want to appear to everyone. Strong, fine. Not who I really am.

A wreck. A hidden wreck.

Tobias kisses my cheek and rubs my arm as I close my eyes. Keep them closed, don't let the tears out. "I know you've lost a lot, but . . . do you want to talk about it . . . at all?"

I give a bitter laugh. "Since when does reliving your bad moments help?"

"Did it help when you told us about Will?"

It don't reply. It had helped me, but caused pain to so many else. I'm Abnegation, I'm Divergent.

"Do you miss Marcus? Since he's dead?"

Tobias sighs. "I'd like to say I do, to show that I still have a heart. But I don't. I don't miss him at all. He means nothing. He's one person who died, and he has no effect on me. That's it."

I twist my fingers. My throat is flaring up again, but this is a rare peaceful moment I get with Tobias, and I can't bear for it to end because of a juvenile pain. I don't want to speak; I don't want this moment to end.

But, of course it has to. Someone practically punches the door. Tobias sighs and gets up, leaving me there alone. There's someone at the door, I normally wouldn't have cared what they were going to say, but this time I do.

"We've found them," he says. Found who? Who—? Oh, Percy and Annabeth.

Tobias's tone becomes his hard, cold one; the one I grew to know in my initiation time in Dauntless. "We're coming."

Tobias squeezes my hand as I am surrounded by the Dauntless. I can see Percy and Annabeth, with guns to their backs and soldiers around them. I want to call out, but my throat has flared up. I can't speak; my words are rough and slurred.

Harrison is standing in the middle of us all. His legs are splayed and his arms are crossed over his chest. His ponytail still has blood in it from the recent fight. His scowl is so deep it causes his whole face to gather in the middle, causing his eyebrows to bush out. That's something I am yet to see again.

His arms are shaking. His chest is heaving with breaths. Everyone is strangely silent. He takes a step towards them like every movement he makes is restrained to the point of pain. "You," he said with so much venom I flinched. Annabeth squared her shoulders. "Me."

I had to admire Annabeth's defiance. Then I remembered: they couldn't die for a reason. Maybe I was afraid to ask what that reason was, because it would have to be so unimaginably horrible for them to still be alive, and unable to die.

Harrison takes a step forward again. Annabeth sends him a glare powerful enough to stop. "I know what happened to you," she says. "I know that you lost your sister."

Harrison stops. He begins to shake. "You have some nerve—"

"I know that you're distressed with her loss," Annabeth continued. "But strangling Tris because of something completely unrelated to that was not right." Emotion seeps into her words, anger and bitterness. "You never kill without reason!"

Harrison looks like he's mulling everything over. Then rage surges to his face. "How _dare _you talk about my sister that way! Don't you know—"

Annabeth's glare turns icy hard. "I know better than most what it's like to lose people. You have _no idea _what losing people actually is. You don't have to watch them as they utter useless words, and you can only lie to them! You have no idea at all," she blinks a few times. "I'm sorry you lost your sister, that's all I can say, but she is gone now, so you have to deal with keeping _your _life current! Ending someone else's won't make it any easier. I thought you would've realised that."

Annabeth blinks a few more times and grips Percy's hand. He's looking at Annabeth gently, like he knows what she means. Maybe these two really _have _been through more than they're letting on.

Harrison doesn't make any further movements. He takes a shuddering breath. "I don't know who or what you are," he says, "but you know things." He nods to her. "Good day."

He turns and leaves before we can say anything. Tobias and I work our way through the crowd to Percy and Annabeth, who are watching the people around them cautiously. Tobias sizes them up. "Come on," he says. "You can stay in the initiate rooms. People won't think to look for you there."

Annabeth looks away and nods. Percy nods. I want to ask them if they're okay, but I don't. My throat is throbbing with pain, so they won't understand what I say anyway, and because they're obviously _not. _

Tobias and I lead them through the crowd, people look at them respectively and nod. No one says anything to them. Tobias opens the door to a room and lets them in. "It's a bit messy," he says. "But . . ."

"It's fine," Percy says. "Cleaner than my joint back home."

Annabeth raises a dry smile at that. "Heaps cleaner."

Tobias looks at them with grudging respect. He closes the door behind him. While he's looking away, he asks, "did you mean what you said back there?"

Annabeth looks at her hands, then at Percy. They share a look I don't understand. "Yes," she said. "When you see them, and you keep saying, _it's okay, it's okay, _but it never is. They _die._ It's horrible lying to them as they die. Because it's the last thing you can ever say to them. And it's a lie."

I nod. I understand. Not many people think about this, and those that do have horrible experiences. "Why are you different?" I blurt out before I can stop myself. My words are clear, even if my crushed throat is burning.

Percy looks up at me with sad eyes. "You really don't want to know."

Tobias turns back to them. "Yes, we do. We can help you get out of here."

Annabeth snorts. "You can't mess with this. We're dead anyway."

"Why do you say that?" I ignore my throat. "Why are you dead?"

"We fell into the deepest, darkest most sinister pit in the land of living and dead."

I look at them like they're playing with me, that this world isn't for fairy tales.

"Me and Percy died on impact," Annabeth says. "Then we had to fight our way through it to get to the Doors of Death. We had to seal them shut. We had to sacrifice our souls."

Percy nods. "Then we ended up somewhere, without our friends. We said we'd meet them at the Doors, and we did—only to say goodbye. Then, we chose the white archway, and fell through the roof of that building. And we can't die now."

I shake my head. "We don't have childish tales in this world!"

Tobias taps his chin. "This pit—would it be called Tartarus?"

Annabeth stares up at him. "You know it?"

Fear dawns on Tobias's face. "You mean—that place is _real_?"

Annabeth nods. "And the gods, and the monsters. Not to mention all those things that want us dead . . ."

"More specifically me," Percy says. He gets to his feet. "You can't tell anyone else about this. I don't know what time can do, but from what I've seen of its Lord . . . not pretty."

"Time Lord?" Tobias asks. Percy shakes his head. "Titan Lord of Time."

Tobias cocks his head to the side. "I don't know of that."

Percy shrugs. "Ask Caleb about Greek Mythology. You'll get your answers pretty quick."

Before I can ask another question, Tobias takes my elbow and steers me out of the room.

"Greek Mythology," I say coldly to Caleb. "What do you know about it?"

He shrugs. "Practiced by the Ancient Greeks. Had twelve major gods—or Olympians, seeing as they lived on a heavenly city named Olympus, which was named after Mount Olympus in Greece. The Underworld was said to be the land of the dead, and there was this dark pit of every sinister and evil things . . ."

"Tartarus," I confirm. My throat has stopped aching by now. Caleb raises an eyebrow at me. I glare at him. "You aren't the only one who got Erudite on their aptitude, Caleb."

For a second I see fear flicker over his face, then it's replaced by mad curiosity. "What did you get, then?" he asks. "How many—?"

"I have the third strongest Divergence ever recorded," I said. "_That's _why Jeanine couldn't control me, so don't think that you can, traitor."

Caleb lifts up his hands. "Tris, I—"

"Sold you to Jeanine, now leave so that I can continue being a traitor," I mock. "No, I came here for answers, and I intend to get some."

"Ask."

"Have you ever seen a person die?"

Caleb pales for a second. "Not really."

"Have you ever killed a person?"

"What? No—"

"And yet you gladly worked against your own sister, who was going to be killed anyway," I say. "Guess what: I _have _killed people. The ones that I didn't have a reason to . . . they haunt me. The ones I had reason to . . . they don't. I have lots of reasons to kill you, Caleb, but you're alive because there are questions out there that I need answers to, and you're an Erudite, meant to have all the answers. So, my first question: what are the Greek gods?"

His face is pale from what I have just said, but he replies, "Zeus, and his wife Hera. Then his brothers Poseidon and Hades. Zeus then had a daughter pop from his head, a child of thought—Athena, who became the goddess of wisdom and battle, then there was Demeter—"

I turn and walk away. I have my answers.

* * *

Annabeth was lying sprawled over a bed. Percy was staring at the wall. "Do you think we were insane telling them about Tartarus?"

"We're insane anyway, Seaweed Brain."

"That's not the point, I mean . . . do you think this will turn out badly?"

Annabeth raised an eyebrow at him. "When _doesn't _it turn out badly?"

Percy shrugged, "good point."

Annabeth sat up. "If you mean that they blab and it causes a riot, no, I don't think they'll tell anyone. Tris doesn't strike me as that person, and if she trusts Tobias, then I trust him too."

"Remember what happened last time we trusted someone apart from us?"

Annabeth shuddered. "Yes, I do, Seaweed Brain."

"Then what—"

The door flew open and Tris walked in, her face flushed like she'd run the whole way. "You—you were in _Tartarus, _where all the evilest things are, and—"

"We said we died on impact," Percy said plainly. He didn't find it impressive, he found it painful.

Annabeth stood up and put her hands on Tris's shoulders. "Yes, we did, and you're sixteen and survived all the stuff going on in _this _world. _You _should be proud, not us. We were dead when we did it all."

You're turning down pride? Percy thought. Percy was so surprised that he nearly jumped out of his skin when Annabeth shot him a glare that said, _stop being such as smart aleck, Seaweed Brain. _For a second he thought he'd actually heard her voice in his head.

As soon as the door was closed, Tobias walked in. "Good news: they're decided to welcome you to Dauntless. Bad news: that means the simulations."

* * *

**Da-da!**

**Yay! WE have chapter 5!**

**Um . . . yeah, about a week for the next chapter, please, so we have a nice long chapter for Chapter 6!**

**Hope you enjoy!**

**. . . I am going to have a lovely time writing the simulations . . .**

**Until next time,**

**Please R&R,**

**-Owl**


	6. Chapter 6

**Hello! I'm sorry for this chapter . . . but I have a thing about ending it in the right place, so yeah.**

**I can kinda feel you trying to make my head explode for this short chapter . . . I apologize. **

**Disclaimer: DO I LOOK ANYTHING BUT AUSTRALIAN?**

* * *

**_Chapter 6: Simulations_**

Percy shifted his weight to his other foot. Annabeth stood next to him. In front of them was a woman in a black leather jacket, explaining the simulations. He liked it less and less as she went on. The simulations were Fear Landscapes, with consisted of being injected with simulation serum which was meant to tap into some gland in your brain that held all of your fears, and that serum would somehow transmit the information like heartbeat, oxygen intake and stuff like that to the people who would be hooked up to a huge machine, where they would be able to watch what you were seeing in the simulation.

That sounded the same as being inside your head to Percy.

So what they wanted you to do, in a nutshell, was to relive your fears in a simulation where the serum could trick your nerves into feeling pain and all that. They wanted to be exposed to your fears.

Fear was something Percy didn't talk about. He had a feeling they would freak other people out more than him.

Annabeth was watching the woman speak intently, when she finished, Annabeth asked, "so who's going first?"

Why did Annabeth sound so eager?

Then he realised that she probably wanted to experiment with the serum that would be in her brain. The one place that she could never be rivalled . . . except by maybe Athena.

"You can go, if you want," the woman said. She had a glint in her eye—maybe a much scaled-down curious look that Octavian could get. For a second that caused Percy to tense. Octavian was bad news.

Then he remembered that they were likely never going to get back there, so he relaxed.

Annabeth squeezed his hand and walked up to Tobias, who was holding the syringe. It was filled with orange fluid. He inserted the needle into Annabeth's neck.

Everything Percy knew was screaming in protest. _Don't let him inject that stuff into her! Are you a Seaweed Brain?!_

But he held back. He knew Annabeth would want him to stay calm, even if calm was very hard to grasp.

She winced as the needle was removed. She gave Percy a nervous smile before walking into the room that she would have her simulation. Percy bit his lip. He didn't like this. Not at all.

The people hooked up to the machine were all men. Covered in piercings and tattoos. Tobias stood next to him as Percy tried to see the monitors, but it seemed that th men were all trying to stop him from seeing.

"I'm sorry I couldn't have been part of the monitoring group," Tobias said. "I would've let her out of it got to the extremes."

Percy didn't like the sound of that. "Define the extremes."

"Tris had a mental breakdown in there," he said. "She had that she was being kidnapped and being pushed into the chasm. I didn't realise why she'd done so badly until I thought about it. She'd nearly been murdered that way before."

Percy froze. "So . . . experiences that become elements in the simulation . . . ?"

"Are the worst and the hardest to get over, yeah."

Percy went rigid. Tartarus was a bad place . . . but Annabeth had been most afraid somewhere else . . . Arachne.

That's when an alarm went off, like a clock alarm. Percy looked around. The men hooked up to the machine were laughing. "Ridiculous fairy tales," one said. "Spider woman? Gotta be joking."

Percy wanted to punch him. How _dare _he say that about Annabeth. Didn't he know how bad that had been? Did _he _want to go see Arachne?

"Percy," Tobias said, jolting him from his rising anger. "We can get Annabeth now."

The men were laughing at Annabeth's fear. Why? What was so bad? What was so _funny_?

When Tobias opened the door, Percy saw Annabeth on her knees, her hands pressed against the ground. "She's not here," she said softly to herself. Her voice was heavy, like she was crying.

"Annabeth," Percy said. Annabeth looked up and then tackled him into a hug. "Percy, Percy, Percy," she said, sounding almost desperate. Percy hugged her back. "It's okay," he said. "It's just a simulation. Arachne's dead." **(A/N: I warned you about the awkward sappiness, so sorry. I won't put these in any more, but I just wanted to say that.)**

Annabeth nodded against his chest. "Just . . . it was so _real,_" she said. She'd been scared out of her wits. Why had he let go? He should've been there!

_Stupid, stupid, stupid! _He scolded himself. The men were still laughing behind him. "Alien by backside! Just some Amity girl!"

Percy's arm was itching to punch them, but he held it in. Tobias put a hand on his shoulder. "Sorry, but it's your turn."

Percy let Annabeth go. "I'll be right back, okay?"

Annabeth nodded, tear tracks on her face. "Okay. You better be in one piece when you get back, Seaweed Brain."

"There goes the Amity girl!" swooned one of the men. That was making it almost impossible for Percy to hold in. But he did. He had to.

Annabeth gripped his arm as Tobias injected the needle into his neck. The sting was annoying, and the reaction made him feel clammy for a second. Tobias opened the door for him. He squeezed Annabeth's hand one last time and walked through the door.

In the space before him, something flickered to life. Annabeth.

Her face was gaunt, and he felt strong hands clamp around his arms. Two _dracaenae _appeared on either side of Annabeth on front of him. "Percy!" she yelled. One _dracaenae _pointed her spear at her and the other gagged her. Annabeth. He had to get to her.

He fought against the strong hands pulling him back, but they were too strong. "Annabeth!" he yelled.

The _dracaenae _hissed at him. "Hold your tongue, sssson of the sssssea."

Percy scowled and reached for the water around him, and even the ground. But it was like that feeling when he'd fought Chrysaor, everything was abiding to another will.

_Good try, little hero, _Gaea's voice came through the room. The sound seemed to become a breeze as it drifted down through the air. As it touched the ground it shimmered, and became the form of a woman.

_She is unneeded, _Gaea said. _Kill her._

_NO! _Percy forced against the guards so hard that he broke free, but not before a bronze dagger was stabbed into Annabeth's chest.

A strangled scream was all she managed before she crumpled to the ground.

Gaea's malicious smile was looming over him as he dropped to his knees next to her. She was clutching her chest and curled in a foetal position. He reached out to touch her, but she evaporated into bronze wisps of smoke.

The cement under his feet hardened to rough, sharp stone. The temperature rose to boiling. Percy didn't move. Annabeth had _died. _And he hadn't done anything.

Simulation. He thought. It's a simulation.

A smile spread across his face. Simulation.

_Here comes the Amity girl, _the man's voice rang in his head.

Percy's smile turned to a look of rage.

What about the 'Amity girl's boyfriend?

He got to his feet. He never thought he could summon his fear, but he did.

A huge, collective roar echoed through the chasm of Tartarus. Lava exploded from the jagged walls. Something huge and black came slithering through the chasm.

It came into view, and it was a huge black drakon. Its scales were encrusted with blood. It hissed, and acid sprayed from between its teeth. It threw back its head and roared out white-hot fire. Percy knew the simulation could control what _he _saw, but that was because of some brain thing, so if he could try and control the simulation . . . and then there were the people hooked up . . . could he make _them _go through the simulation?

He'd been told that as a Divergent his brain was different. So . . .

He scowled as the monster came closer. He didn't even think about it. Why did he care? Did they actually think that this was the worst his fear-gland-thingy could come up with? Gods no, this was a pleasant memory compared to what he'd seen with Annabeth.

The serpent slithered closer, snapping its bloody maw and flashing hid fangs. Percy ignored it and concentrated. _They can see you, _he thought. _So you can see them. _

He scowled and closed his eyes so tightly he saw stars. Come on, you Kelp Head, he yelled at himself. Annabeth would've had this in the bag by now!

Then the serpent vanished, heat and roars vanished. He opened his eyes. Around him were five stunned-looking men. The same Dauntless men that were supposedly monitoring the simulation. They looked around, terrified. Percy raised an eyebrow at them. "Welcome to your Fear Landscapes, gentlemen," he said. This was for Annabeth.

* * *

I pace back and forth in Tobias's room. I'd been forbidden to go to the Fear Landscapes, after my last success and failure. A chill went down my spine as I remembered Peter's strong hands clamp down over my arms, pinning them to my sides.

I shudder and shake the feeling. Then I have a thought, Peter.

They said that Percy beat him up pretty bad. Maybe I should go see.

I hesitate. Me and Peter aren't friends. If we're anything, we're enemies. Why do I want to see him?

He saved your life, I remind myself. It's the least you can do.

No, I don't like him. I would go so far as to say I hate him, but that doesn't mean that I'm not part Abnegation. It's my instinct to help and be selfless . . . slightly.

It's also instinct to be curious . . . and proud. My pride is a flaw, one that will get me into trouble someday, but it also gives me strength. Strength and vulnerability are much the same thing, given by the same things, taken by the same things. **(A/N: That's an original quote! I have a few of those . . .)**

I push aside those thoughts and walk to the door. I wrap my hand around the handle and pull open the door. I freeze. There is someone on the other side.

I see her only for a second. Dark hair pulled back in a braid, obsidian-black eyes wearing a purple dress-like garment with gold medals and a spear. She's frowning, like she's angry. She looks like a leader, and reminds me of someone.

In that split second, her gaze moves across me, settling on me for a second and then, as her eyes widen, she's gone.

I sway slightly in shock. What had I just seen? Why did she remind me of someone? Do I know her?

I shake my head and press my palms to my forehead. I take some deep breaths. She's not there anymore, I tell myself. She's gone.

I take a step, and it quickly turns into a sprint away from there. I have to get away, I have to get away.

I run into someone.

"Oh my God," I say. "Sorry."

I look up and see it's Tobias. I lunge forward and wrap my ams around him. "Oh God, where were you?"

He hesitates. "Are you okay, Tris?"

I let go. "Either I'm finally going mad or I was just haunted, no. Where . . .?"

He grabs my arm. "You have to come and see this."

"What?" I ask as he drags me along. "What's wrong?"

"The simulations, that's what."

* * *

Percy wasn't impressed. He walked out of the room. "They call your fears childish when you should see theirs!"

Percy's number of fears: one. Losing Annabeth. His simulation had worn off quickly, in fact it would've gone for thirty seconds of he'd let it, but they'd made fun of Annabeth's fears, so he wanted to see if their fears were something worth being afraid of.

There weren't any.

Annabeth gaped at him. "You . . . ? Percy, _what did you do_?"

"They made fun of your fears," he said. "They called Arachne a fairy tale. So I figured I'd see what they were comparing it to."

"What are you afraid of then?"

Annabeth glared up at him. Percy shrugged. "What do you think?"

"Losing me?"

"Yeah. And you have two fears. I saw."

Annabeth rested her head on his chest. "How are you going to get out of this one then?"

"Oh, I don't know," he said, putting his arm over her shoulders. "But I've gotten into worse situations."

Annabeth gave a small, tight laugh. "Yeah, we have, haven't we?"

"We could mention our old friend Kronos down in Tartarus," he said. "And then there's—"

"Got it," Annabeth said, standing up straight. Two of the men came out of their shock and began to unhook themselves. "What did you do?" one said angrily. He was tall and muscular, maybe thirty or so. If Percy had been mortal and unable to die right then, he had a feeling he probably would've lost to the guy. But he was now unable to die. Not to mention he's been to Tartarus and his skills with Riptide had gone beyond the point of abnormal.

"Well," Percy said. "You mess with my girlfriend, you get what's coming to you."

"Liar!" he yelled. "We did nothing of the such!"

_Nothing of the such. _Wasn't that a tad formal? Percy ignored it. "You freaking called her fears a fairy tale!"

"They _are! _There's no such thing as the spider woman!"

Percy took a second not to explode. At least they were admitting that they had done it. Then he did what he was best at: giving a smart aleck reply.

"But then, you could argue that people that can't die don't exist."

"They _don't."_

"Hello? You're looking at them!"

Annabeth smiled behind him. Percy grinned in victory. The man crossed his arms. "That is a childish belief and in the modern world like ours you can't afford to be afraid of things like that."

Percy looked at Annabeth, who looked slightly ashamed of herself. Percy straightened. "If you had seen what we had," he said. "You'd be afraid of something _heaps _more childish than that."

The man looked fit to start an argument, but the doors flew open. Tobias and Tris were standing there.

* * *

Percy and Annabeth stand there calmly. I notice how Annabeth is slightly behind Percy. The man, who I know as Mike, runs a hand through his head. "Hello, Tobias. Tris."

"What's going on?" Tobias asks. Mike stands up straighter and crosses his arms. "Your record's been broken."

"By who?"

Mike juts his chin to Percy and Annabeth. "The girl has two, the boy has one."

_One. _One fear. How can someone have just _one _fear?

And then Annabeth only has two. I had _seven _and thought I was fearless. Who—or what—could have only two as a maximum?

Mike then points to Percy. "And this _smart aleck _figured out how to use the simulations both ways."

I freeze. Use them _both _ways?

"How?" I ask, stepping forward. "What did he do?"

"Each one of us went through our fear landscapes for everyone to see. Along with this _kid_."

"Why?" I ask Percy. The fear landscape should be private.

Percy raises and eyebrow at me. "Would you like to have _your _fear called childish? Make-believe?"

I eye him. "No, I wouldn't. But mine aren't." I know that Eric thought of my fear of intimacy as _amusing, _and that made me mad, but it was my fear. Then it occurs to me; this probably wasn't his fear. I look at Annabeth. "What was it?"

Annabeth rests her head on Percy's shoulder. "I'd prefer not to say."

"Think of it this way," Percy said. "If it's so make-believe, then we'll never encounter it."

Annabeth wacks him upside the head.

"She's afraid of a spider-woman," Mike jumps in. I glare at him—these aren't his fears to tell.

Something tells me that if these two are who they say they are, then a spider-woman is something strictly to who Annabeth is. I have to ask them. I have to know.

"Spider-woman or not, it isn't your fear to reveal, Mike," I say coldly. I look back at Annabeth. "Well, you're through. Come on, and Welcome to Dauntless."

* * *

**Yeah . . . SORRY!**

**I SHALL UPDATE REALLY SOON! I PROMISE!**

**Okay, until next time,**

**Please R&R,**

**-Owl**


	7. Chapter 7

**Yeah, this chapter's short . . . I mean, it 3,000+ words? Is that okay?**

**Yeah . . . well, enjoy and PLEASE DON'T KILL ME!**

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**Disclaimer: DO I LOOK LIKE VERONICA OR RICK?**

* * *

**_Chapter 7: The Expedition Recruits_**

I walk through the Dauntless. Tobias doesn't want me to come. Why? Why can't I?

Percy and Annabeth are sitting at a table. Percy's eating a hamburger and Annabeth some chicken, like Abnegation meals. Neither of them look up as I sit down.

"Hello, Tris," Annabeth says idly.

"Hi," I say. I rest my elbows on the table and put my chin on the knuckles. I don't speak. I guess Annabeth and Percy are some of the few people that appreciate silence.

Tobias comes and sits down next to me. "You don't have to avoid me," he whispers in my ear.

I look at him. "You don't want me to come. There's a whole _world _out there and I'm not allowed to see it."

"I'm sorry, Tris," he says. "But there's a chance that there are people out there—hostile people."

"You think I'll get killed," I say. "Do you think about what _I _want? What if I don't want _you _to die either?"

I hear something strange from my left, like another language. Then I realise that Annabeth said it. Percy keeps his eyes fixed on his burger and replies in the same foreign tongue. Annabeth nods and then keeps eating. That language . . . I feel like I _should _know it, but I don't.

"What did you say?" Tobias beats me to asking them. Annabeth shrugs. "Random fact."

"I think it was a bit more than a fact," I say. Annabeth looks at me from the corner of her eye. "Sharp as always," she says, turning back to her foot. "I made a comment on the _whole world _thing. I have a feeling I know where we are."

"What . . . ? You mean that you know the world beyond the gates?"

"If I think I'm right—"

"Annabeth, you just _are _right," Percy comments. Annabeth rolls her eyes. "If I'm right, then this is Chicago. At that Erudite whatever, I saw that bean thing—"

"No! Have you forgotten the name of something, Annabeth?" Percy asks sarcastically, still eating his burger. Annabeth sticks her tongue out at him. "Get over it, Seaweed Brain. I've been in Tartarus with only you for the last month. My brainpower is sure to have decreased over that time."

Percy only shrugs. Then, of course, he keeps eating.

"Anyway, I think this city's Chicago. Which means east—"

"Is New York," Percy says. "Where there's Long Island—"

"Where there's camp. And then to the west is Camp Jupiter."

Then Annabeth pokes her chicken. "Then we're in between them . . . do you remember what the video said about why you were confined to the one city?"

"Something about war, and that this was an attempt to achieve peace by wiping the minds of us and then putting in fake memories. It said that when Divergent were abundant that we would have to go to Amity and open the gates to get out."

Annabeth nods, but she looks as if an anvil's been draped across her shoulders. Percy looks much the same, and he at last finishes his burger and looks up. "We're far from the sea," he notes.

Annabeth throws up her hands. "Only you would say that!"

I raise a dry smile. Marlene had—

I stop that thought. Grief was already bad here.

Then Uriah comes and sits down next to Percy. "Well," he says. "All the Divergent are on the one table."

"Can I ask why on earth you're here?" I say to Uriah. His grin spreads. "What? Can't I just come and sit with other people?"

"Uriah, why—are—you—here?" Tobias asks. I can see Percy smirking.

"Fine," groans Uriah. "Have you ever tried sitting anywhere else?"

"No," I reply. "Because they think we're like a bacteria or something."

"Exactly," he says.

Annabeth scoffs. "What? For having two possible factions?"

"Yeah. You have _no _idea how bad it is to be Divergent."

"Uh, Uriah—" Tobias starts, but Percy cuts him off.

"Dude, we fit into all five!"

Uriah stopped. "Nice try, but—"

"They're not lying," I say. "They scored an equal aptitude for each of the five factions."

Uriah coughs on the food he had just put in his mouth. "You mean . . . ?"

"We're even more Divergent than you," Annabeth says.

Uriah hits himself in the chest to help with his coughing. Then he stops. "And I thought I was bad . . ."

"You were better than me to start off with," I say. "I got three, Tobias two, you got two, and then these two got five."

"I think this is one of the times when the bigger number's worse," Percy says.

"_Usually _the bigger number's worse," Annabeth says. "Remember the army—"

"Don't remind me," Percy says.

"Army?" I ask.

"Last year we had to fight a war," Percy says. "I'd prefer to end it there."

But I don't want him to put an end to it so quickly. "What did you have to fight?"

"We lost heaps of friends in that war," Annabeth says. "It's not something we brag about."

The sudden change in character I do not expect. But I know that losing friends in war is nothing to be proud of. I lost Lynn a few days ago. I can still feel her bloody hand around my knuckles.

Tobias's arm wraps around my shoulders and I lean onto him. Then I have a thought. "What do you do?" I ask, "When you have to go somewhere dangerous? What of one doesn't want you to go?"

Annabeth laughs. "We both go, obviously. Unless one of us is missing"—she shoots Percy a glare, who holds up his hands—"or if we're the reason the other's going. But . . . when we died—"

"Whoa, hold up," Uriah says. "You _died_?"

"Why do you think we can't die?" Annabeth asks him. She puts some peas in her mouth. "Anyway, when we died, Percy had the choice of letting me go."

I think I'm imagining it, but I can see a film of tears over her eyes. "Here comes the sappiness . . ." Percy muttered. "But I didn't," he says. "I'd been missing for nearly a year, and I was _not _going to lose her again. So I picked the easy option: I died with her."

Uriah looks at them like a bizarre experiment—half afraid, half fascinated. Then yet another though occurs to me. "Uriah, what did you get on your aptitude?"

Uriah snaps back to reality and tightens up. "Dauntless and Candor," he says.

Candor, I think. The one who values honesty. I wouldn't have expected that from him. I look up at Tobias. "Can we both go?"

He looks away from me. "Do I _really _mean that much to you?" he says quietly.

"Yes."

He nods. "Then maybe I'll think about it."

* * *

Annabeth stood next to Percy in the Pit. Tori, Tobias and Harrison were standing on a platform. "Today we are choosing who is going on the expedition to the gates of Amity," Tori said into a microphone. Annabeth could see Tris at the steps of the platform.

"We have watched the video again," Tori said. "And we have seen that it says _when Divergent are abundant, _and they are now. We have taken that into consideration, and so all the Divergent are on this expedition. If all goes well, the rest of Dauntless with accompany them."

"What about the factionless?" yelled someone lost in the crowd.

"_All _the Divergent are to go. Whether they are from Dauntless or the factionless. Other than that . . . nothing. Would all the Divergent please come up."

Annabeth gripped Percy's hand and they walked through the crowd. They climbed up the steps and stood amongst the people. "Tobias, you have your men," Tori said.

No one clapped. No one did anything. Tobias came and shook everyone's hand. Tris appeared next to her. "Excited?" she asked.

"No," Annabeth said.

"Only an idiot would be," she said. "Nine times out of ten the people want to kill us."

"Really? It's more like ten times out of ten for us."

"Make that eleven," Percy said.

"They just want us dead," Annabeth decided. Tris looked up at them. "Why?"

"You do _not _want to know."

"Just saying that makes me want to know."

"You'll find out," Annabeth said. "That is, if you don't die."

"I'd say the same for you, but—"

"We can't die," she said. "Which sucks."

"Really? I thought—"

"That it would make life easier," Annabeth finished. "I finally understand what they meant. You don't know how lucky you are."

The gods had always said that mortals didn't know how lucky they had it. She knew now.

"I wouldn't call it lucky," Tris said bitterly.

"I would," Annabeth said. "At least you have a goal in life—to stay alive. When you're like us . . . everything you spent all your life to get so good so that you _wouldn't _die . . . they become useless. There's no reason to try, because you've already won."

"Isn't that good?"

The crowd began to climb down the steps. "No," Annabeth said, "Trust me, you don't know what you've got until it's gone."

Then the crowd forced them apart, and she and Percy went one way; and Tris the other.

Annabeth had managed to get to the training rooms and practice her skills. Maybe she couldn't die, but she could keep her skills. She hadn't gone through Tartarus for nothing.

She'd found her knife in Tartarus, which had made her so happy she cried. Percy still found that weird, but she's never admit that to him that the knife was the last thing she had of the good old days, before camp, before wars . . . even before Percy. Sure, if he'd been there, it would've made her life complete, but you can't have everything.

She closed her eyes to enforce muscle memory. She swung the knife around, but then it hit something hard. She opened her eyes, hoping that she hadn't hit the wall—that would be embarrassing—but she was actually crossed with a bronze sword.

"Been a long time since we've done this," Percy noted.

"Scared you'll lose?" Annabeth said.

Percy grinned. "No. And besides," he lowered his voice, "there aren't any monsters to keep me from beating you now."

Annabeth slashed with her knife at him, but he sidestepped and swung his sword to her ankles. She jumped over it and attempted to get him in the head with the hilt of her dagger, but he ducked and smashed the dagger from her hand. She stopped and glared at him. "Why did those giants have to fight _you_?" she asked.

Percy gave a wicked grin. "Because I fought Ares?"

Annabeth rolled her eyes and picked up her knife. "That was a quick fight."

"Yeah, it was."

"Um . . ." Came a voice. Annabeth looked for the owner. It was the factionless girl—Amelia Angels. "Did I come at a bad time? You looked pretty mad . . ."

"What? No, um . . . we're about to go," Annabeth said. "Percy, come on."

She grabbed Percy's wrist and dragged him along past Amelia. She watched with wide eyes as they passed. Once again Annabeth saw her dark eyes, and she couldn't help but think of Hades as she did so.

"Wait," Amelia said. Percy and Annabeth stopped. "It's just . . ." Amelia twirled her fingers. "I feel like I should _know _you, I just . . . don't."

Then horror grew her young face. "You . . . you're Annabeth Chase."

Annabeth froze. Ice crept up her spine. "How do you know that?"

Amelia gripped her head in her hands. She groaned. "I don't know . . . I just . . . it just came out . . . but is that your real name?"

"Amelia, who _are _you?"

"I'm Divergent," she said, looking up. "My . . . my dad was a factionless, and my mum left Erudite after she discovered something. Beyond that, I don't know."

Annabeth looked at Percy. "The Divergent . . ." she said. It all began to fall into place. "Amelia, are you going on the expedition?"

Amelia nodded. "I am . . . I just . . . I _have _to . . . I don't want to . . . I'll die."

"No, you won't," Percy said. "We'll make sure."

"Yeah," Annabeth said. "We'll look after you."

Amelia shook her head. "No. No one does."

"What do you mean?"

"I'm alone. My parents are dead."

Annabeth felt her throat tighten. How could this girl go through that? "Come on," she said. "Where do you sleep then?"

"In the corridor, maybe a niche or something. Nowhere really."

Annabeth held out a hand. "Then you can stay with us. We have a whole room full of beds. It's the least we can do."

A small smile spread across Amelia's face. "Okay . . . I mean, okay!"

Annabeth walked on down the corridor with Amelia on one side and Percy on the other.

_The least we can do._

Then what was the most?

* * *

Tobias has been punching the bag for a long time. I sit on the bench, swinging my feet. I don't find the way his muscles work attractive, or the way a sheen of sweat coats his skin. I just like Tobias because he's _him. _

But would I say I love him?

Maybe it's because I'm Abnegation, it's not my nature to fall in love or see looks as attractive. But I have said to him that I love him, so I do.

But I am not Abnegation.

I am Divergent.

Tobias finally stops punching the bag. "You shouldn't come, you know."

I look at my feet. He's said the same phrase over and over again. "So I can be killed back here by the remaining Erudite?"

"No," says Tobias, punching the bag once. "I just . . . I can't lose you."

"Don't you understand?" I say. "You shouldn't go _either. _What about me losing _you_?"

He looks at me from where he's standing. "I couldn't bear to know that they got you."

"Tobias, this is the best solution."

"What? Both of us putting our throats out to be cut?"

"No," I say. "And yes. If we _are _going to die, at least we can be together. If you go and die, leaving me behind, what about me? And if I stay here and Dauntless is attacked and I get killed, what about you?"

"It's not likely that will happen."

I let out a breath. "I'd prefer to die with you than alone."

Tobias steps away from the bag. "I'd prefer you not to die."

I bring my knees up to my chest. "I'm going anyway, so get over it."

"_Get over it_?" he yells. "What I you _do _die; and it's right next to me? How do you think I'll feel?"

"How do you think I'll feel if _you _die next to me?" I shoot back. Why is he so stubborn? Why does he fail to accept the fact that I am going no matter what?

"This isn't being reckless, Tobias," I say. "Me being reckless would be me going out alone. This is me going with so many others—why would anyone pay me a glance? I'm safer out there. Besides, back here people _know _me; they'll know who to kill. Out there . . . out there I'm nobody. I'm safer."

Tobias runs a hand through his hair. He takes one, two, three deep breaths to calm himself. "I guess I do hate it when I'm wrong."

I pick at something on my leg. "That's why we're Dauntless. That's why we're Divergent."

He nods. "The party's leaving at dawn. Get ready—and _bring a gun."_

_Bring a gun. Bring a gun. _

Can I use a gun? I pace the floor of the room. Tobias has long left it, but I'm still here. I look at the guns laid out on the table. I pick one up.

Immediately I feel sick. I cup a hand over my mouth to keep the vomit down. Will's face appears in my mind. Will's body falling limp, and then me shooting myself to get to Jeanine's rooms. I used the gun then, why can't I now?

"We have all night to get over this," Annabeth says calmly, picking up a gun and loading it. "So, what's your problem?"

The way Annabeth can appear unnerves me, but I believe that she has good intentions.

"I shot one of my best friends," I say. "I watched my mother and father get shot. My friend . . . he was under the simulation . . . and he was about to shoot me. I wonder if that was such a bad thing."

Annabeth looks at me with sympathy. Not pity. She must realise that I don't appreciate pity.

"At least you didn't kill him in cold blood," Annabeth says. "Will was Christina's boyfriend, wasn't he?"

I'm astonished to see that she has figured it out. But she said it like a fact, like she already knew it was true.

"Yes, he was," I say. "And one of my best friends."

Annabeth nods and takes aim. She fires, and it hits the ring outside the bullseye. "If you were Will, would you think that he would ever want to kill you?"

"No," I say, because I truly don't.

"Would you think that he would want to kill, even under a simulation? Would he want to have all those thefts on his conscience?"

"Thefts?"

"To kill is to steal life," she says calmly, firing again, just missing the bullseye.

I look down at the array of guns. "No."

"Then do you think he would rather have been killed than have to live with all that?"

"I would have, yes."

Annabeth nods. She doesn't look at me. She picks up a smaller revolver. In a swift movement, she fires the gun and it hits the bullseye. "Then you have nothing to regret."

She presses her gun into my hand and wraps my hand around it. "When you shoot," she says. "Imagine that you're pushing the memory, pain and grief away with the force of that bullet. Kill that memory. Will was a good person—but you did nothing wrong, Tris."

I look down at the gun and then struggle to keep my stomach calm. "I shouldn't be this weak . . ."

"You're not weak, Tris," Annabeth says. "To miss a friend and regret their death is noble. To hate using that weapon, to limit your tools that you can use . . . maybe it's stupid, but it's a sign of strength."

"Huh," I say. "Tobias doesn't think like that."

Annabeth rolls her eyes. "Tobias thinks like that because he _cares _about you, Tris," she says. She picks up a rifle. "The guy loves you."

I put the gun down. "Does that change anything?"

"It means that his world would implode on itself if he lost you," she says. "Few people know what that's like."

"Do you?"

Annabeth fires the rifle. "Maybe."

"You do, don't you?"

Annabeth sighs and puts it down. "Percy was missing for eight months. Everyone presumed him dead. I nearly went mad."

I study her face. She seems to be . . . hiding something. "Annabeth, what else happened?"

I can only see one of Annabeth's eyes, but it fixes on me and hardens. "The summer before we had to kill one of our best friends," she says. "We had to force him to commit suicide, in a way. He'd been making our lives so bad over the last four years . . . but when we had the real friend back . . . we had to make him kill himself."

I wrap my hand around the gun. I'm trembling. Annabeth went through that and can use these things fine. Why can't I?

I pick it up and hold the gun out. It's cold in my hand. The cold travels along my arm, it makes me feel heartless.

_You have nothing to regret._

I squeeze the trigger. The crack of gunfire blocks out all else. I see Will's blank eyes. No emotion as the bullet hurtles towards him. It's being pushed away.

I imagine all the memories gathering like a sheet, being hit by the bullet and blown away. I want them to disappear. I want them gone.

The bullet misses the target.

Annabeth adjusts my arms. "Again."

The bullet hits the furthest ring of the target. I'm breathing heavily. I fired a gun. _I fired a gun. _

Annabeth runs a scrutinizing eye over my posture. She pushes back my shoulders and lowers my left arm, rounds my right, and pushes back my left leg a bit. "Again."

I squeeze the trigger. Another ring closer.

Annabeth stands back. "Now adjust yourself."

And I do. I raise the gun, and I fire.

It hits the bullseye.

Annabeth nods. "Now put that it a belt. I hear you like knives better."

* * *

**Ta-da!**

**At least that ended well . . . right?**

**Right?**

**Yeah, we get to start the action next chapter. YAY!**

**Okay, uh . . . Annabeth's not to OOC, is she? I mean . . . I know how ****_Annabeth _****acts, but how does she appear to other people - like Tris?**

**Yeah, and I guess the Luke thing . . . yeah, but really, wouldn't have Annabeth felt like that? Because she ****_did _****have to tell him that she never loved him as he was dying . . .**

**And then Tris's issues with the guns, I figured that would've needed one last push for her to get over it, y'know? So yeah.**

**SPOILER: Don't get too attached to Amelia. She IS a minor character, and if you hate me for that, sorry. AND IT IS A MAJOR THING TO THE PLOT!**

**Well, until next time,**

**Please R&R,**

**-Owl**


	8. Chapter 8

***puppy eyes* You don't hate me, do you?**

**Well, you will after this REVOLTINGLY SHORT CHAPTER!**

**Sorry, but I was sick, and I have a rebelling brain, so I figured that I'd give you this so you could yell at me.**

**Uh . . . Yeah, I'm more of a Percabeth supporter, as you can see.**

**Dude, those two ae awesome! He's a smartarse, she's a genius!**

**And then you just have to admit that basically everyone in the PJO fandom loves reading about those guys. **

**Okay, yeah, please don't kill me!**

**Disclaimer: NOT EVEN THOSE TWO AUTHORS COULD BE THIS ASHAMED RIGHT NOW**

* * *

**_Chapter 8: Not What Was Expected_**

Annabeth froze. There was something hairy, fat and eight-legged right in front of her. "P-Percy!" she yelled. She started trembling, her heart pounded. The spider turned towards her. Annabeth thought she could hear it clicking its mandibles.

"_PERCY!" _she screamed. The spider was coming at her now. Her heart felt like it was going to smash her ribs to smithereens.

"Wha—" Annabeth fell backwards, onto Percy. She pointed. "Sp-sp-spider!"

The spider was running towards her now. She was backpedalling as fast as she could. "Annabeth, it's okay," Percy tried, but nothing could get through. She was fixed on the spider, and how very fast it was coming towards her. Then, she didn't know what she did. She wanted them gone, so she made a shoving motion with her hand.

The spider was then shoved away by some invisible force. It flew back into the wall. Annabeth froze. Her hand dropped to her side. She—_she—_had done that. But what had she done?

The spider turned and scurried away. Annabeth broke down in Percy's arms. She buried her face into his black Dauntless shirt and cried. "What am I doing?" she said between sobs. "Why am I breaking down?"

Percy pushed the hair from her face. "Who says you're not allowed to?"

"Me, that's who," she snapped. She rubbed her eyes and took some deep breaths. "I just . . . all our friends are _dead, _and we don't know how, we're stuck here going out with some people we hardly know that think we're _aliens _and . . . and we just . . . I don't know what to think . . ."

_What do I say? _She heard. She froze. What had she just heard? Percy's arm wrapped around her shoulders. "It could be worse."

_I could've lost you, _she heard. She looked up at Percy. "Percy . . . did you just . . . ?"

"What?"

"I . . . I heard . . . what did you just think?"

"That you're freaking me out right now."

"No—before that."

"That I could've lost you in Tartarus," he said. "Because if I had—"

He must've seen Annabeth's pale and terrified face. Had she just heard a thought? Tears pricked at her eyes. "Percy, maybe . . ." she didn't say another word, she just started crying.

_Get it together, lady! _She yelled at herself. _You never cry! You're a leader! _

But she did. She felt so small and weak, and her tears kept coming and coming and coming. She buried her face into Percy's shirt. She thought she'd finished crying, but she hadn't. Nothing ever finished with them!

Not even their lives.

* * *

The gates of Amity slowly inch open. Every breath in the air is a collective, thrumming sheet of tension. We want to get to Amity, to tell them to open the gates on the other side, to let us through to see what's out there.

_It was always my intention to save you . . ._

My mother had said those words. Had she not been lying to me and meant that saving me was for me to be alive when the truth was eventually released? Or had she been lying to me.

After all, my mother had been born a Dauntless . . .

I shook my head to rid myself of those thoughts. My mother had loved me, but she was gone.

Did Caleb love me? Would a normal brother turn in a sister or . . . or help _experiment _on her? What kid of—

I froze. The gates had inched open. Standing between them was Caleb.

He's grinning. His hands are clasped behind his back, and his hair is as messy as ever. Tobias grips my hand.

"I've come to . . . _escort _you to the headquarters," he says.

"We don't need to be escorted anywhere," Tobias snarls. "Especially not by you. Traitor."

That makes Caleb grin wider. "Sometimes you don't have a choice."

That makes something snap within me. _Don't have a choice. _

I let go of Tobias's hand and storm up to him. I'm shorter than him. I grab the collar of his shirt and pull him down to my eyes. "You know nothing of not having a choice," I say. Rage is boiling in me. "You don't know _anything. _You think that the Erudite know things—they don't. They don't know what it's like to watch someone die; they don't know what it's like to be betrayed by your own _brother. _And maybe no one does, but let me tell you, Caleb, I do."

I pull out my gun and press the handle to his chin. His eyes go wide.

"And I know a way to help the memories go away."

I push him away from me. The Divergent are walking forward. Caleb regains his composure. "Killing me won' do you any good, so you'd better come and see Johanna anyway, seeing as she's your ticket to opening the gates to the world beyond here."

I shove my gun back in its holder and grip Tobias's hand as he walks up next to me. Neither of us says anything, maybe because we don't have to. He knows what I meant when I said those things.

It's late afternoon when we finally get to the Amity headquarters. Some things I had been expecting, some not.

Johanna regards us all with her hair draped over her scar. She nods to us, and then announces, "the gates will be open tomorrow, until then, I advise that you get some sleep. If the world is hostile out there . . . you'll need your strength."

No one disagrees with her. We file towards the door, and I can see the back of Annabeth's curly blonde hair.

Then everyone stops as Johanna points at Annabeth and Percy and yells, "_You!"_

* * *

**Yeah, ****_cliffhanger, _****but hey, Rick pulls them off EVERY FREAKING TIME, I mean, listen to this:**

**The Lightning Thief: Percy's half dead after Luke betrays camp and the gods and gets him stung by a Pit Scorpion**

**The Sea of Monsters: "I am Thalia, Daughter of Zeus." Need explaining?**

**The Titan's Curse: LUKE'S NOT DEAD?! And Percy claims the prophecy and Nico's missing, and Percy thinks the kid wants him dead, and Grover hears ****_Pan_****? Dude, biggest cliffhanger ever?**

**The Battle of Labyrinth: Nico di Angelo is RIGHT THERE, with a plan to help Percy win the war.**

**The Last Olympian: Maybe not, but I needed to have all five, because I love them so much.**

**HoO!**

**The Lost Hero: Oh, by the way, Percy's over in the, uh, Roman camp with no memory.**

**The Son of Neptune: The ship descended through the clouds - NO FREAKING REUNION!**

**The Mark of Athena: (I'm assuming you've all read it, but if not, stop reading here.) PERCY AND ANNABETH AE IN FREAKING TARTARUS?! WHY? And Nico says they're not dead? WHY? THEY'RE THE BEST CHARACTERS OF ALL TIME!**

**But you have to admit, he pulls it off every time and we still love the guy! I mean, we hate the guy for his cliffhangers, but we can't bear to leave the fandom? WHAT EVIL GENIUS IS THIS?!**

**Yeah, I'm ranting to fill up all the space the chapter missed out on . . .**

**I have to do a Wide Reading presentation and I'm doing the MoA, I'm just gonna talk about that the whole time.**

***grins evilly***

**Sorry about the chapter! I WILL have a longer new one soon, and I did promise to have longer chapters . . .**

**Maybe this can be a microchapter?**

**Have any of you read Maximum Ride? The chapters are SOOOOOO short! **

**But there is a lot, so I guess that's okay.**

**Okay, a warning, when we get out of the gates into the outside world in this fanfic, I'm going to ditch the plot of Divergent completely, which I'm sorry about if you live that and not so much PJO, but it sounds good in my head, and Cat likes it.**

**Oh! And yes, Annabeth is beginning to read minds.**

**If that wasn't obvious and you hadn't picked it up, sorry!**

**Yeah, that and the powers thing is Cat's idea, so I need to put that in the Disclaimer too . . .**

**WHY?!**

**I APOLOGIZE AGAIN! And I'm sorry!**

**Until the next chapter,**

**Please R&R, (Flames welcome, seeing as how bad I feel about this chapter and this whole rant . . .),**

**-Owl**

**(And Cat, I guess, decide for yourself.)**


	9. Chapter 9

**Okay, so, I am back with a reasonable chapter, and yes, it's a cliffhanger.**

**I'M JUST SAYING!**

**Okay, here it is:**

**Disclaimer: I LOOK LIKE THOSE PEOPLE WHO WRITE THESE DARN BOOKS?! NO! AND I AIN'T CAT EITHER WITH HER FREAKINGLY COOL IDEAS FOR ANNABETH**

* * *

**_Chapter 9: Through the Gates_**

Annabeth froze. That woman was pointing at her, shaking slightly. Annabeth studied her face. Her hair covered half her face, probably because it was flawed or something. She had a sharp nose, but that was all she found interesting. She didn't find kindness in the woman's eyes.

"I don't know what you're talking about," she said calmly.

The woman lowered her hand and walked closer to them. "I know you," her voice dropped to a venomous whisper, "you're the one who cut my face."

Annabeth ran her hand over the bump under her shirt where her dagger was strapped to her arm. She didn't usually cut people across the face. It wasn't her style. Unless she'd been trying to kill her—but why would she?

'How did I do it?"

The woman gave a loud, cold, bitter laugh, then her voice dropped again, bubbling with anger. "You may not have been the one wielding the knife, but I know your face. You're the reason _behind _it. I have to live with this _every day. _It can't leave me. You _dare _show yourself here!"

"I didn't _do _anything!" Annabeth yelled.

The woman narrowed her eyes. "Every single generation of my family have all believed the same thing. People with your two faces"—she gestured to Percy but remained fixed on Annabeth—"are bad news. They're responsible for out loss of honour."

"How so?" she challenged. "You accuse me of doing something I didn't."

"I don't falsely accuse _anyone," _she spat. "But I accuse you, Annabeth Chase, of being responsible of my injury, my blindness in my eye."

Annabeth looked at her in a challenge. "Name why I'm responsible."

The woman opened her mouth, and an explosion ripped the night in two.

Annabeth was thrown backwards. She felt warm blood over her hands. Blood? But when Percy had been shot . . . were they becoming more mortal? Did that mean that they could _actually _start to live again?

She pushed that thought aside as someone yanked her up. She looked up. Looked like the calm 'let's go through the gates' thought was ditched, because the explosion seemed like it had come from that direction.

Her eyes focused on something, someone running. She looked at who had picked her up, but there was no one there. "Percy!" she yelled. She got no response. Divergent were running everywhere. The Headquarters looked okay, but Annabeth wasn't so sure about their architecture.

"Amelia!" she tried. There was screaming, yelling, orders, and . . . whistling? Like . . . arrows?

"Tris!" Annabeth tried again. She needed _someone. _

She started running. She had to find people.

And oh, she found people. Just not the right ones.

* * *

The blast knocked me like a twig, seeing as that is basically what I am. I get to my knees, disorientated. I can hear the shouts of fighting. Guns are fired. I get to my feet and begin running to the skirmish. Had someone attacked? Had Johanna killed Annabeth?

No, I tell myself. Annabeth can't die.

But even as I run into the fight I doubt it. I dodge a punch from a Dauntless man and keep running. I have to find Tobias. Where is he?

Before I realise, I've run right through the fight. I see some figures running from the fight. One turns to me and then fires something from a strange weapon. A _bow?_

I whirl back to the fight and I see Tobias's face. I sprint towards him. Then something wraps around my ankles and I slam into the ground. "Tobias!" I scream.

I shouldn't scream.

I shouldn't get scared by these things.

But I am. My heart is pounding. My fear makes me on edge, it makes me come alive. I sit up and see the figures coming closer. They're hooded. I rip my ankles free and start running. Then there's a blinding flash, and all the noise stops.

But there's nothing there. They ran from here. I can see Tobias, his eyes focus on me as I run into his arms.

Then . . . cold. I can't define it, just that it starts in my chest and works through me like a pain, almost. It spreads through me, and I seem . . . shut out. I can sense everything going on, but it feels distant, like I'm not really there.

My hand reaches down and draws the pocket knife from my belt. I turn around. I can see Annabeth's back. One stab, that's all it takes.

_What am I doing? _I think. I'm not putting thought into these motions, they are happening seemingly against my control, and yet I make no effort to try and stop them. Maybe in this case, I go with the flow.

Tobias's arms aren't around me, I can't sense him there at all. The knife is heavy in my hand, and I lift it higher up, so that it can get Annabeth in the back.

_Why do I want to do that? _I think dimly, but I don't care: I'm doing it anyway.

I'm about to bring it down on her back, when a hand grabs my wrist and twists it so that the knife drops from my hand. Annabeth whirls around. "Tris? What— oh my gods," she says. I look up at who got my wrist: Percy.

Tobias's hand squeezes mine, and I turn to look at him. I don't feel me. I feel . . . different, like I've been spaced out and I can't get back.

Annabeth looks at Percy. "They're still around."

Percy shrugs. "They still want us dead, so some things must still be the same."

* * *

"What?" Tobias shot at her. "What's still around? Why are her eyes _freaking gold_?"

Annabeth was shaking. The Eidolons couldn't still be around, could they? Where was Piper when they needed her?!

Then she remembered that Piper was probably dead. She swallowed.

"Eidolon," she said. "I thought you were—"

"_Defeated?_" Tris snarled in a very unlike-Tris-way. "_You have missed much, Daughter of Wisdom. Oh, the glory of the fight when you were gone—we were in our prime! Possessing, killing, it was perfect. Gaea rewarded us, oh, she did. And then what? It got too much, and everything was wiped out. Then . . . I sensed something new. Demigods. Powerful demigods. Ones that I had possessed before. The strongest one."_

"No, he's definitely the same," Percy muttered.

Tris bared her teeth. Percy raised his eyebrows. "Yes? I'm not a dentist."

Annabeth had to admit she loved her boyfriend's smart aleck comments. Not to mention the antics.

"What is going on?" Tobias looked ready to punch her in half—which she doubted was possible, but you can never be too careful—as he paced back and forth. The Dauntless were rapt on what was going on in front of them. Annabeth found it irritatingly logical: Tris was perhaps the most true Dauntess, the most loyal—if she went . . . bad, then it would throw everything out of the water.

"Tris," Annabeth said. "You can fight the Eidolon, you _can_."

Tris's glassy gold eyes looked up at her. "_Nice try, but you can't do this. I am—"_

Annabeth got mad then. She frowned. All her anger was bubbling in her. Why? (1) One of her best friends had been possessed by an Eidolon, possibly the one that had possessed Percy, all those weeks—years?—ago, and (2) Tris had tried to kill her.

Her eyes narrowed and her brow drew together. Tris began to writhe under her glare. "_Stop!" _the Eidolon begged. "_Stop!"_

_Stop?! _Annabeth thought at it—yes, _thought—_she gripped her knife. _Why? I died, I've watched Percy be possessed—was that you? You'll be sorry if was, buddy—and I have lost my friends, lost my grip on reality, and now I have to deal with you guys _again?!

Tris writhed and fell to her knees. "What are you doing?" Tobias yelled. "Stop!"

"No," Annabeth said. "Tris isn't feeling this pain—it's the Eidolon."

_Oh, and it hurts, doesn't it? _She snarled at it. _"Please!" _Tris begged, in a completely un-Tris-like way. _No, _Annabeth said to it. _You—are—going!_

Then Tris staggered, fell sideways into Tobias's arms, and Percy let go. A shimmery golden wraithe-like thing wafted in front of her. _You should not have those powers, _it said. _Power is deadly._

_I know how to use it, _she growled.

The Eidolon narrowed his gold-ish eyes. Then he disappeared.

Annabeth realised her hands had cramped from being in fists. She uncoiled them , letting the blood flow back into the fingers. She was losing her grip, what had she done?

_Giant's bane stands gold and pale, won through pain and a woven jail._

Annabeth shook her head and stumbled for a step. Percy grabbed her arm. She smiled up at him. "Thanks, Seaweed Brain."

Unless she was imagining it, Percy was wide-eyed and looked, well, afraid. Of her? Well, she could pick a good fight there. Had he seen himself during the Titan War? Pfft, like she could compete with _that _look.

Still, it made her think about what she had just done. Sadly, the jaw-rattling lightning strike that hit the ground not two feet from her shut off those thoughts pretty quickly.

But she couldn't help but feel as though she was going . . . bad. As if this was edging her closer and closer to something that Percy didn't want.

And that would destroy her.

She groaned and got to her knees. When she looked up, she saw someone she hadn't expected to see; not in a million years.

Older, but definitely the same person.

"Who are you?" he asked, softly and deadly calm.

Annabeth looked across to Percy, and a message passed between them.

_"Who are you, then?" _she asked in Ancient Greek.

The man's eyes widened in shock. "_Annabeth?"_

Annabeth looked across to Percy again. He nodded. It was _definitely him._

"Nico," she said.

* * *

I can't say what I'm feeling. I'm cold, I'm hollow.

I'm . . . vulnerable.

I can't be vulnerable—not for a moment. Biting back a grunt, I pry open an eye. I see Tobias's chin. He's looking at something else.

I can hear that language again. I painfully look across.

There's a young man, staring at Annabeth, who's on her knees. He's tall, lanky, with a mop of black hair that falls over his eyes. His skin is so pale he looks dead. I can see a silver skull wing glinting on his finger, and he is dressed in black.

I can't understand what's going on. Annabeth and Percy glance at each other, and something catches my attention on Percy's right arm.

A tattoo. How could I have not noticed it? It's there in plain sight—and my eyes seemed to just skim over it every time I looked at it, but I can see the edge of it now, something that looks like a trident.

I look back up at the man.

"Nico," Annabeth says.

* * *

**Mwahaha! I am soooo evil, aren't I?**

**I can see why Rick likes cliffies, quite frankly.**

**THAT DOES NOT EXCUSE THE MOA, THOUGH!**

**Okay, until the next chapter,**

**Please R&R,**

**-Owl**

**P.S. OH MY GODS have you guys heard Adele's new single "Skyfall"? It is ****_the _****song for percabeth right now - in the real books, y'know . . . them in ****_Tartarus. _**

**I want to go see the new James Bond movie now . . . okay, see ya, guys!**


	10. Chapter 10

**Right, I AM BACK. BOOYAH!**

**With an eight-page chapter. At last, we're getting back up to speed. Work is - at last - slowing down and I have some breathing room! So, here is Chapter 10. Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I AM ****_NOT _****RICK (Lord of Trolling) OR VERONICA (Hater of first drafts) OR EVEN CAT, WITH HER KICKASS IDEA FOR ANNABETH**

* * *

**_Chapter 10: Child of Death_**

Annabeth looked at Nico. He was definitely Nico. Same hair, same dark eyes that you _really _didn't trust. Same ring, and even the same skeleton-pattern t-shirt.

"Nice to see you too, Death Boy," Percy said, rubbing his head. Nico's eyes lifted to Percy. "Kelp Face? Dude, you're meant to be _dead,_" Nico said. "Actually"—he lifted a finger to his chin and tapped it—"you _were _dead. For the last ninety years."

"Really? You'd never guess!" Percy yelled sarcastically. That of course caused Annabeth to whack him upside the head. Nico pointed at him. "So, Kelp Face, where have you been, if not dead?"

"In _freaking Tartarus,_" Percy grumbled. "Where we closed the Doors—while being dead. Then—if you remember, which I doubt, Death Boy—we were the ones who sealed the Doors by sacrificing ourselves—man, that sounds _so _cheesy—and then, _poof!_ We ended up here."

Annabeth nodded. "Well, not like that, but it's basically it."

"Define 'not like that'," Nico pressed.

"As in there was a _lot _of pain and screaming and such," Annabeth finished. "Happy?"

Nico straightened.

"Oh—was that _you _that caused that earthquake? You're nearly as good as I am!" Percy taunted.

Nico shot him a death glare.

"Haven't lost it, have you?" Nico said, rolling his eyes.

"What? Being the smart aleck thing that _really _ticked Terminus off? Never! You sicken me, Nico."

Annabeth watched as Nico tapped the hilt of his sword. Annabeth slowly put things together, which, of course, made a question.

"Why are you here, Nico?"

Nico looked at her through the corner of his eye. "Well, an explosion at Amity? Never a good sign, seeing as Hazel thought up Amity."

Annabeth got to her feet. The rest of the Divergent were looking at her. She nudged Percy with her shoe and he got up too.

Despite the fact that Nico looked about mid-twenties, Percy was still taller.

Oddity.

Nico sized them up. "So . . . you _are _Percy and Annabeth?"

"And _you _are Nico di Angelo," Percy pointed out. Nico sent him his deluxe death glare. Annabeth looked out at the crowd of astonished faces of the Divergent.

"Nico," Annabeth said. "These are the Divergent. We came here because of the video—which I haven't seen, but still—and they said to open the gates of Amity."

"Well, they're wide open," Nico mused. "So you can (a) come with me, or (b) stay here."

"Is that even worth asking?" Percy said with a raised eyebrow. Annabeth looked back at Nico. "Nico, you know that the Eidolons are still active, right?"

"Yep," he said. "One of the few things that are."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Nico fixed them all in a dark gaze. "Gaea doesn't exist anymore."

* * *

I shakily get to my feet. The rest of the Divergent do with me. I see my knife on the ground. I want to pick it up, but I feel as if my head has been put through a blender. I sway, and Tobias catches me. "Are you okay?" he asks. I nod.

He looks doubtful, but says nothing.

"All of you Divergent are to come with me," Nico says. "I'm your ticket out of the gates."

"But the video said—"

"That video was made forty years ago," Nico says. "That was the plan, but when someone blows up the Amity headquarters, you learn to change tactics pretty quick."

Tobias says nothing.

"Now, follow me, and if you don't there's a high chance that you'll have your head shot off."

Then Annabeth freezes. She looks around madly. "Amelia?" she calls.

Amelia?

There's no sound, no one's coming forward.

Shock takes over Annabeth's face. "No, no, no!" she yells. "This can't be happening. Amelia!"

Percy takes her arm. "She might just—"

"Annabeth," says a weak voice. Everyone turns towards the sound. Annabeth bolts towards it. I want to follow, but I can't. I see the man—Nico—run after Percy after Annabeth. Amelia . . . ? I don't know that name. But she must mean something to Annabeth.

I look at Tobias. "We have to—"

"I don't think we should," he says tensely. I shake my head, making my neck explode with pain that I regret already. "I need to. Please, Tobias."

He looks at me hard, then gives in. I lean onto him and we follow Annabeth.

I see her crouched low over something. She's muttering to herself. Then I realise something: the Divergent are half as strong as they were before. That explosion was targeted at us.

I walk closer, and I see what it is that has crushed Annabeth.

It's a girl.

She's from the factionless, with dark hair and olive skin. Her eyes are almost as dark as that man's. Her black jacket is wet. I'm thankful I can't see the red of the blood on it.

But she's smiling. "Annabeth," she says. "Thanks."

"No—we said that we'd look after you!"

"You did," she says, slightly dreamy. "You gave me the only home I ever knew. You took care of me. I'm glad I had you here to die."

"No, Amelia, come on, we can help—"

"I don't want help, Annabeth, not this time. I want to go out knowing I was strong. I want to go out looking up at faces that looked after me, that liked me."

"You were always liked," Annabeth says, pushing a blood-clogged hair from Amelia's bruised face. Amelia smiles, "Thank you, Annabeth," she says. "And you too, Percy. Thanks for . . . thanks for this awesome time."

Percy says nothing, but he nods.

Nico's next to him. He looks at the girl with interest. "Amelia Angels," he breaths.

She looks at him. "Nico di Angelo."

Then she looks up at Annabeth and Percy's white faces. "Thanks guys," she says. "You did more than you'll ever know."

And then her eyes became unfocused, and she was still.

I don't move. Amelia just died—a friend of Annabeth and Percy's, a Divergent, a factionless.

A child.

* * *

Annabeth watched the sun rise in the sky. She was leaning onto Percy while they walked. She hadn't been glad to have Nico there many times, but she had for Amelia. Nico was there to help send her soul to the Underworld.

"Freaking idiots," Nico muttered. "Gotta make those guys shut up."

"What are you talking about, Nico?" Percy asked. Annabeth was too emotionally and mentally drained to ask questions. She just had one motive programmed into her legs: walk.

"This place was made for a complicated reason," he said. "A few demigods—me being one of them—were picked to make sure that it kept going until the right time when the video we made was out and the Divergent were abundant. Except some of those bright-smarts wanted this place destroyed, eliminate the risks. This is the first real attack they've launched."

"Please don't tell me they picked Octavian to be part of those kids," Percy muttered.

"No. He . . . um, was put in here. Too unstable."

They walked a few steps in silence. "Are there any other demigods we'd know working with you?"

"Um . . . no," he said. "I was picked because, well, I'm the only child of Hades left—except for that girl, who must've been a descendant or something from Nicole—"

"Nicole?"

"The war let us find heaps of demigods," he said. "Nicole was a child of Hades. Why? Don't ask me. I had a feeling that Hades wanted to get back at his brothers. But she went in. Some demigods went in to hope that their motives of avoiding war would keep going after the gods wiped their minds."

"What are you talking about?" Tris said, obviously in pain after being possessed.

"You'll find out when we get to the gates," Nico said briskly. Then he looked across to Annabeth. "I guess it's been a while since you've seen anyone _else _die."

"Yep," Percy said. "And technically we're still dead."

"I don't know what you are," Nico confessed. "You're not dead . . . but you're not alive. Sorry, man."

Percy shrugged. Annabeth felt the fabric of his top slide under her face. "It's really depressing."

"Oh, ya think?" Nico scoffed. "Still, I have a feeling there are a few people waiting to see you. And some that may or may not want to kill you."

"Pinecone Face?"

"Yep. She wants to kill you for going missing and leaving Annabeth so wrecked—about ninety years ago—she has a grudge. Hmm. And then she wants to kill _both _of you for dying on her."

"I'll tell her to stop at me."

Nico cracked a smile. "Nearly a century gone and you're still a total smart aleck."

"You were expecting me to be _obedient?_" Percy snorted. "Fat chance."

"How'd you meet that girl?" Nico asked. "Amelia, I mean."

"She was the one who, um . . ."

"She found us," Annabeth said softly. "She was the one who, well, nearly captured us when we made a break for it. Then there was complications—getting caught by Dauntless—and then she saw us when we decided to fight—with _blades, _Nico, not the other one—and then, she seemed like a kid. A kid that needed a hand. We said we'd look after her."

She looked down and swallowed hard. "And we didn't."

Percy squeezed her shoulders. She leaned onto him harder. The world seemed to have taken a turn so that she held the weight of the sky on her chest, crushing her.

To her horror, she felt tears pricking at her eyes. She swallowed them down. It was one thing to break down with Percy; it was another to do so in front of all the Divergent. She blinked a few times, clearing her vision. She could _not _cry. Not here. Not now.

Nico looked at her. "Why is it I'm about one hundred years old and yet you look _exactly _the same?"

"Hello? Did you miss the scars?"

Nico ran them over with his eyes for a second. "Ah, well, um, yeah. Well—apart from _those, _why?"

"Um . . . did you miss the 'we're dead' thing?"

"So . . . you're not dead yet?"

"Dude, we've been talking about this for _ages! _We _can't _die. We physically can't. I've already been shot twice."

Nico snorted. "Just like you."

Annabeth could basically _feel _Percy grinning his trademark sarcastic smile. Annabeth pressed even closer to him. She supressed a soft whine from the back of her throat. She knew Percy was better at letting go to people than she was. Percy's arm squeezed her shoulders. Hey, she didn't have a teddy—or chocolate, but she had a life-size hug machine.

"Nico, you know about us, what the Hades has been going on with you, then?" Percy asked. Nico winked at him. "Oh, I can hardly wait to see your face."

"Dude, that's just _copyright_."

* * *

My head's better. That's what I know. I know I'm holding Tobias's arm, and that we're behind Percy and Annabeth, and Nico. I know that Annabeth's in pain, because she's holding Percy like a rock. That man is . . . creepy. I've never had to use that word before, but creepy is the only way to describe Nico.

Dark hair, dark eyes, pale olive skin that's so pale it looks like paper. When he looks at you, he seems to loom above you, like a spirit of death. His hair hangs over his eyes, and they look out from behind them, half insane with power and half dark, sinister things that shouldn't be disturbed.

His long coat whips out behind him in the breeze, and I see a sword strapped to his belt. Looking at him closer, I can see a thin layer of facial hair, very thin, almost like a smudge. He wears a black t-shirt with patterns on it like dancing skeletons and black jeans. Why am I noticing these things?

He glances behind, and I realise it: ever so slightly, almost unnoticeable unless really looked for, he looks slightly like Percy.

Are they related?

"No," Nico said, his dark eyes looking at me. "There is no way I'm related to that Kelp Face."

"Death Boy," Percy shot back.

My eyes widen. Can he hear my thoughts? Or does he just know how to judge a person's face? Tobias bends down and whispers in my ear, "What was that about?"

"I was just thinking—him and Percy look slightly the same."

Tobias pauses, then stands up straight and looks at the back of their heads. If anything, they look nothing alike. Nico's hair is thick and dark, and Percy's is windblown to one side. But there's something that triggers an alikeness . . .

Their gait. They have the same movement, as if each step they're looking around. Every footstep is hesitant. I notice Annabeth has much the same stride, but she's lighter on her feet, and more forward, as if she'd rather go on fast and then turn and run if necessary.

And they all remind me of each other. How can they not be related?

"Technically we are," Annabeth said, one bright grey eye looking at me from Percy's shoulder. _But it gets confusing and you don't want to hear it, _I falter in my step. Had she said that _in my head_? She winked at me, and then turned back around. I lean on Tobias harder. What is going on with these people?

Tall metal fences rise up at us. Nico walks right through, and we follow him. The Divergent flow into the new land that not one of us have ever seen before, and it looks . . .

Exactly the same as the other side of the gates: tall grass blowing from the wind, as far as we can see. Nico rolls his shoulders. "Come on," he says. "With any luck we can make it to Homer by nightfall."

"Homer?" Annabeth asks.

Nico nods. "We made several new towns and settlements. Homer is the closest one. Then we can figure out where you plan to go—East or West."

"What about North?" I ask. Nico looks at me. "Trust me," he says darkly. "_You _don't want to go there. Just about every one of us survivors still have nightmares about up north."

Percy and Annabeth nod silently. "So . . . this place has been wrecked barren?"

"Ichor isn't good for regrowth," Nico says. "You remember Zeus's fist? How it never looked the same? That's basically what the whole world looks like right now . . . except, um, _there_."

"You're telling me that _it's _still there?" Annabeth asks suddenly, standing upright. Nico gave a crooked smile. "Yep, and so is your architecture."

'Homer' was a small settlement. It consists of three houses, two run-down stores and one motel that is beyond ancient. Flickering lights light up the porch, and flies buzz around them. The actual motel is set around a central car park. There are two cars: equally run-down and well beyond repair. At the reception sits one girl—maybe fifteen. She is dressed in silver and white camouflage with dark red hair. She looks up when Nico walks in, leaving us waiting outside.

Percy and Annabeth snigger as the girl yells at Nico about something in that other language. I look at the restless Divergent. We have about twenty people now—mainly between sixteen and twenty-five.

Nico comes back out. "Okay, we can stay here tonight. There are three beds per room. Rooms one to twelve can't be used. So . . . go get a room—and don't come out once the sun sets. There's a 112% chance you'll die a bloody and painful death with a lot of screaming."

Nico sounded nonchalant about it, but it was obvious that he meant it. The Divergent nod and we follow him into the motel.

Tobias and I end up in room 33. There's an empty bed against one wall. The walls are bare brick and the lights flicker on and off. But I don't complain. The doors have three deadlocks and the window is laced with wire, and then barbed wire on the outside. Whatever's out there must really scare there people.

Tobias is watching me pace. "You haven't sat down once this whole time."

"Because I can't," I say. "I just . . . we're _out, _and now we're in a _motel_?" I throw my hands up in the air. Then I freeze, something heavy, panting and dripping is outside the door. My adrenaline rushes through me as I back away from the door, knowing that the window isn't safer at all—probably more dangerous. But I do.

Then I hear Nico's voice. "Kelp Face, get rid of the hellhound, will you? I'm too lazy."

"Death Boy lazy? Never!" Percy yelled dramatically. I can hear footsteps coming towards the door. The monster outside growls. The footsteps stop. "Yo, Nico—this is _not _a hellhound."

"Then what is it?"

"An old friend of mine."

"Dear gods—it's the chimera, isn't it?"

"How did you guess?" Percy yelled sarcastically, and then his footsteps become running, and the monster growls and leaps away from the door. I sink to the bed. There's a sound—metal on metal, hissing, the roar of flames . . . and then a yell of triumph.

"Shut up and go to bed, Seaweed Brain!" Annabeth yells. I swallow my fear and get up. I walk towards the door. "Tris, what are you doing?" Tobias asks.

I press my face to look through the peep-hole and see Percy in the middle of the car park, three metres below. He's holding a sword—probably a metre long. Its tip gently touches the ground while he looks in another direction. I notice a small pile of golden dust at his feet. "Aw, come on! I find my ol' bud—the first monster that defeated me—and now I have to go to bed?"

"Yes," Nico and Annabeth said in unison. Percy groans and lifts the tip of his sword to his finger, where it shrinks to something too small for me to see—small and black, maybe a pen?

But then, when Percy looks up, he freezes. "Percy?" Annabeth's voice filters through the night. I can only see the back of Percy's head, but I can see the entrance to the car park.

Standing there, in the flickering light, is a figure. Someone dragging someone else. The one standing is dressed in silver and white like the receptionist, but it's holding a bow in one hand, and in the other . . .

As he struggles to his feet, dread rises from the pit of my stomach.

He looks up, and I can only feel my heart pounding in so many emotions I can't tell which from which.

It's Caleb.

* * *

**OOOOOOOOOH, Cliffhanger!**

**Hey, that wasn't too long a wait, was it? Well, here is the answer to the last one!**

**I guess I can see what you're thinking: ****_a freaking Hotel? What is with this girl!?_**

**Well, I figured that things like this would have to pop up, so yeah.**

**Who's the girl? ooooooohhhh. What's gonna happen to Caleb? Why's she dragging him in?**

**SPOILER: THALIA GRACE IS BACK! WHOOHOO!**

**I love Thalia. She's awesome. **

**And there was Cat thinking I didn't like her. *sigh***

**Mind you, I am a noob, ****_so . . . _**

**Okay, I was writing this bit, and the last time Tobias and Tris were in a room together . . . well, let's just say a certain scene from Insurgent came up and I will tell you now: I will ****_not _****write a make-out scene. I draw the line there! Odd kisses and things like that - in the bag. Those freaking things? NO WAY.**

**And now, seeing as the Big Three's Children are back, we have to have our old friend Bj back on the scene. I love Blackjack even more than anyone else - that is why I'm writing the Blackjack Tales.**

**Okey-dockey, people:**

**Until the next chapter,**

**Please R&R,**

**-Owl**


	11. Chapter 11

**HELLO, PEOPLE OF EARTH AND BEYOND!**

**This is the one-and-only Owl annoying you from the A/N of this chapter. Yes, I guess it has been a while, and I'm sorry, but I just, um, went through five books in the time it took me to write this and am currently on ****_The Odyssey, _****so don't hat me!**

**Yeah, I think we all know you've got it bad for PJO when you find yourself reading that book for pleasure.**

**Review Replies: **

**Cat: since you asked me in House, "you don't like Thalia, do you?"**

**ALW4: WAIT NO LONGER! THE ONE AND ONLY BLACKJACK HAS ARRIVED IN THIS CHAPTER!**

** .52: Don't worry, I am!**

**toe walker: hello, dear reader! Well, the reason I ask those is because (a) I like annoying you people, and (b) because I saw it on this other fanfiction and I liked it, so I started doing it. There'll be a different one this time, though. Fun fact: I have a toe-thumb too. My friends think the name "murderer's thumb" suits me better. (*cough* Detlef *cough*), because when we get a long review either me or Cat tends to look up the profile of that person. We don't take reviews for granted! No, I haven't read City of Embers. If you tell me the author I'll look for it at the library and borrow it for the summer. I now have 5 books set aside - 6 if you count ****_the Odyssey. _**

**Okay, people, before we get stuck in, I have decided that Radioactive by Imagine Dragons is the song of this fanfic. Well, I got heaps of plot ideas from it, and when I get that I decide to make it the official song of the fanfic. I did that with the Blackjack Tales and 30 Seconds to Mars, and many other books all have official songs too. So meh.**

**Disclaimer: NO I DON'T LOOK LIKE EITHER OF THESE AUTHORS SO I AIN'T THEM!**

* * *

Annabeth was frozen to her feet. There was someone standing at the entrance of the dingy motel. Except Annabeth knew that person _anywhere. _

Percy's sword was resting on the ground. Annabeth knew him too well to know that that meant he was either in shock of in defeat. Just he never gave in to defeat—except in some arguments over stuff—so the majority of the time it was shock.

Caleb winced as he got to his feet. Annabeth felt anger looking at that kid—how did he even _live _with himself? Annabeth bit her lip. But then her eyes zeroed in on the Hunter.

Then . . . suddenly her head was bombarded with emotions that she could _not _have been feeling. Anger, bitterness, and then shock, before anger rising all the way up to rage. Thunder boomed.

"Nico di Angelo, get your skinny butt right here now!" the person screamed. Nico trudged forward. The Hunter pointed at Percy. "Is this some kind of sick joke? What is with you, Death Boy? You want to rub it in my face?!"

"No, Thalia, listen, please—"

"Ninety years and you _still _want to drive me mad with it? I thought you gave up after the first few years. They were dead, and no one, not even Hades, the god of the _Underworld _found them—and you decide to pick a wound?"

Annabeth glanced at Percy, and he glanced back. Annabeth gulped and began to walk forward. Thalia whipped around and notched an arrow at her. "Freeze _right _there, illusion."

That's when Percy decided to screw things up. He started cracking up.

"Illusion," he wheezed. "Nice one, Pinecone Face."

Then Thalia fired her arrow. In that split second Percy sliced the arrow in half as it came towards him. He grinned and leaned on Riptide like a walking stick. "Now that we have that sorted, I would just like to say: I kinda thought you'd be happy to see Annabeth, at lease. Me? I expected you wanting to kill me for, um, getting kidnapped by some psycho goddess, but _come on! _Annabeth's right there—and hi, by the way."

Thalia stormed up to Nico. "Oh, you have _so _done it this time!"

"Thalia," Annabeth said. "We are _not _illusions. It's us. We, um, _died, _and then we were sort of sucked into the future. Okay, if I wasn't me, how would I know that your nickname is Pinecone Face, that you spent about five or six years as a tree, that you had the fate of Olympus in your hands once when you met the Ophiotaurus, that you have a younger brother called Jason who's—"

There were a few things that Annabeth knew screamed 'shut up', and one of those was Thalia's death glare. "Don't—you—_dare—_say his name."

"Why not?" Percy said. "He was one of our friends."

Thalia threw up her hands in exasperation and turned her back to them. Lightning flashed across the sky. "Nico, so help me when we are done here I will _kill _you."

Caleb stood off to the side, gripping his forearm. Annabeth looked up to Tris's room. She knew that every one of the Divergent was watching them, waiting for something to happen.

_Yo, Percy, _she said. Yes—it had finally clicked into place. She could read minds, she could project thoughts. Her . . . brain-usage had increased so that she could move objects. _We have to go hurricane-style._

_Well, if it's all the same to you, the fact I'm hearing your voice in my head is creeping me out._

_We have to . . . lure her. Nico may have made these so-called 'illusions' before, but he wouldn't have been able to give them godly powers. You have to do what you're best at—annoy her._

Percy grinned and flexed clicked his knuckles. _Someone might think it was doomsday._

_By the looks of things, it happened a long time ago._

Percy gripped Riptide and capped it. "You know, Pinecone Face, I don't think you've changed one bit since . . . the Titan War? Yeah, that was when I last saw you."

Thalia swung around so fast Annabeth's eyes didn't focus on it. "Oh, a gutsy one, huh? Think you can stomach this?"

She launched a volley of arrows at him. Percy sidestepped two and then grabbed one out of the air, blocking the other two. "Man, I hate using arrows as swords. And I just put mine away."

"You want swords?" Thalia snapped. She pulled out her spear and tapped her bracelet. It spun into her shield with Medusa's horrible face pressed into it. Percy pulled out Riptide. Annabeth and Nico slowly backed away.

Thalia charged with the speed only a century-old Hunter could have. She swung her spear at Percy, and as he parried with Riptide sparks flew. Annabeth shielded her eyes as their blows got faster and faster until they were so fast she couldn't follow them. Thalia's spear began to radiate light. The winds picked up.

Thalia was obviously miffed that she hadn't sliced and diced this Percy to bits. So of course she played her wild-card: lightning.

She took a step back, raised her spear, and lightning shot down from the sky and hit the point, she then swung the point at Percy, Annabeth could see the lightning running through the tip of the blade.

Annabeth could safely say that Thalia had tried this trick at less strengths before on Percy, and after many electrocutions he had realised that holding Riptide while the lightning hit his sword was risky. So he capped it in one second and ducked, letting lose a torrent of sleet so strong it looked like something Poseidon had made. The lightning shot from Thalia's spear and hit the manhole cover on the concrete, causing an explosion and sending it flying.

When she looked up, the friendly cousins were fighting again. Except this time Thalia looked drained. She rammed the butt of her spear into Riptide in an attempt to knock it from Percy's hand, which didn't work, but succeeded in kicking him right in the chest, sending him catapulting backwards.

He groaned. "Since when do you fight dirty, Pinecone Face?"

Thalia turned to Nico. "Have you got Hecate to help you this time or something?"

Annabeth ran towards her, ducking as she swiped at her. "Thalia, it's _me. _It's Annabeth. The girl you found at those warehouses, the one that threw a wrench at Luke. The one . . . the one that saw Luke die. It's _me, _I'm here. I don't know how and I don't know why. Please believe me! And that Seaweed Brain over there's Percy. We're _real. _We're the ones that went with you to Olympus when Hera broke your legs when she went for me. Percy's the one that went with you when I went missing. I'm the one that was wrecked for those eight months. . . . I'm the one that was wrecked after you became a tree."

Thalia looked at her, and her spear hit the ground. Annabeth tackled her into a hug. Percy mumbled, "Sure, I'm the one that gets my butt kicked you're the one that gets a hug."

_Shut up._

Thalia let go. Then, (surprise, surprise), she turned to Percy. "Since I realise it _is _you now, Kelp Head. I have eight months of worry from Annabeth that I feel like taking out on you now."

Percy groaned and lifted up Riptide. "Can't we go to a pool or something?"

Thalia laughed. "Go ahead and look for one."

Annabeth looked up and saw it was still raining. "Hello, we don't need a rainy day."

Percy raised an eyebrow, but stopped the rain. Nico looked at Thalia. "Now that I'm not on the _To Kill _list, the Divergent are here."

Thalia's eyes widened as she looked at him. He nodded.

"It's time."

* * *

I swing the door open and walk out. "What's going on?" I yell. I don't know why I do; is it because I'm a proud person, and no one realises I'm here? I know my pride will kill me someday.

Of all the people to look, Caleb sees me first. Emotions rise through me so fast I feel like I could drown in them. Anger, bitterness, worry, they all come clashing together in a way that should kill me.

Then the rest of them turn to me. I feel small under all their gazes. Annabeth; icy cold grey and calculating, Percy; deep and powerful, not to be messed with, Nico; dark and sinister, avoid at all costs, and then the new girl that I have never seen before that Percy was fighting—the one that had managed to summon lightning. Her eyes were so clear and bright it sent shivers down my spine.

Caleb takes a step forward, but the girl swings her spear out like a boom gate. Go no further.

He jumps back, as if it had burned him. My guess is it has. The girl looks up at me. "Divergent?"

I nod, feeling even smaller than I am. Then I feel Tobias's arm around my shoulders. The girl raises an eyebrow at them. One by one, the Divergent creep out of the rooms of the motel.

The girl looks across them. "You're the ones."

Her spear then disappears. I realise her horrible shield is long gone. She straightens. "My name is Thalia. I am a Hunter of Artemis, one of the Watchers of Chicago. I have to transport you to the place that you're meant to go to. But I suggest you stay here, seeing as if we go now you'll probably die."

"So subtle, Thalia," Percy mutters. Thalia swings around and shoots him a glare. When she turns back to us, I notice that she glows slightly silver. Her hair is choppy and uneven, and she has that look about her, that look that there is in Dauntless, with the black eye-liner and piercings. Just Thalia isn't wearing eye-liner, or piercings. She just looks . . . rebellious.

"If you were paying attention to that, ah . . ."

"Family Reunion," Annabeth said. Thalia shot her a look.

"If you saw that very _interesting _thing just before, don't blame me, he's the younger cousin. Man, this sounds like I'm giving orders."

"You are."

"Be quiet, Kelp Head or so help me I will fry you."

Something tells me she isn't joking about the 'frying' bit. Percy shut up. "At first light we're going to start heading to Manhattan. Of course, that's across the country, so we'll have to make some stops," Thalia raises her hand. "Whatever you do, do _not _expect them to be easy, simple, just walking. Nope. There will be _training. _Whether or not, the war is still going. It's more political than it was, but it jumps and dives. They've been attacking Chicago for years. That explosion at Amity—that was them. The massacre of Abnegation—they helped out there to. How on earth they managed to come around is beyond us, but we have a vague idea."

"Who's 'us'?" someone called out. Thalia looked in their direction. She smiled. "You'll have to wait and find out, Divergent."

_Divergent. _But unlike so many others, Thalia doesn't say it as if we are some parasite or something beyond control. She speaks like we're . . . lower than her.

_All five factions._

Then it hits me; they are _the _Divergent.

* * *

Annabeth brought her knees up to her chest as she sat on the wall of the motel. She shouldn't have been out there, but she couldn't stop herself. She looked across the fields of tall grass, dark in the night. She felt the warm breeze coming from across the empty land around her. She leaned back against the wall. She was back in her homeland. One hundred years into the future.

She felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end. She listened, and she knew who it was. "You know you're rubbish at sneaking up on me, Seaweed Brain."

He appeared beside her. "That's depressing."

She leaned onto him as he sat down. "It's weird, you know."

"What is? The fact that we're alive when we're dead, the fact Nico isn't a creepy little kid, the fact that Thalia just fought dirty—"

"I mean the fact that this is exactly the same place it always has been: the United States of America, and yet it's nothing like it. In the space of one century."

"One hundred years is a long time."

"How old was Chiron?"

"I see your point," he said. "But . . . I think we've realised that over these years of complete bull in some areas, you can't think about _why, _you just have to _do. _If we have to stop something, then we have to stop it."

"What are we stopping?"

"Thalia from losing it? Nico from become emo?"

"Nico was _born _emo!" Annabeth laughed. "And I wasn't aware Thalia ever had it."

Percy laughed. "That's true."

Neither of them said anything for a while after that. "Do you think the gods are still out there?" Percy asked. "Because Nico and Thalia . . . well, let's just say I have a feeling that they're still defending Olympus."

"Hey, Percy," Annabeth said, ignoring his question. "Do you think . . . if we ever got back, and if we ended up seeing Chrysoar again, what do you think would happen?"

"I'd kick his butt, that's what," Percy said. "He may be about three thousand years old, but he's never been to Tartarus."

Annabeth smiled. "You'd save me some to kick too, right?"

"Sure, if you wanted to," he said. "I mean, I'd try to."

Annabeth buried her face into Percy's too-big shirt. Percy's arm wrapped around her shoulders.

She liked it there. She wanted to stay like that forever, but nothing _ever _went their way. "Hey, do you hear something?" Percy asked her. Annabeth listened. "No. What does it sound like?"

"It sounds almost like . . ." he stopped. "No freaking way!"

He got to his feet and looked out into the night. Annabeth looked at him quizzically, wondering is _maybe _her boyfriend had lost his mind. But then she heard it. The sound of wings.

She saw the huge Pegasus come soaring out of the sky. "Yo, Blackjack!" Percy yelled. Annabeth tried to listen to the horse's mind, but she couldn't hear anything. Maybe it stopped at humans.

The Pegasus swooped down and landed on the slab of concrete that was the motel wall. He shifted from foot to foot, and Annabeth noticed his image rippling into the night occasionally. Percy ran over and swung an arm over the Blackjack's neck. "Long time no see, man. What have you been doing all these years?"

Blackjack looked back at him and cocked his head to say, _what have _you _been doing, Kelp Face? _

"That's a fair point," Percy said. "Dude, you're forgetting Annabeth."

The horse gave a jump and then zeroed in on her. Its mouth dropped open. Percy burst out laughing. "What? What did he say?" Annabeth asked. Walking over to scratch Blackjack's ears.

"He said—he was like, 'that girl _still _likes you? I thought she would have killed you by now.'"

Annabeth gave a laugh. "Well, if you're thinking that about _us, _what about you?"

Percy didn't burst out laughing. He didn't say anything. Blackjack straightened. It was obvious: _I ain't gonna say, so get over it._

Annabeth looked across to Percy. He shrugged. "Think you can give us a ride, old bud?"

Blackjack rolled his eyes, but made no effort to stop Percy as he vaulted onto his back. Annabeth crossed her arms. "No _way _am I getting back on that nutcase."

"Aw, he's offended," Percy said. Blackjack whacked him with his long black tail. "Ow!" Percy said. Blackjack made a sound almost like a whinny. Annabeth guessed he was laughing. "Yeah, that's nice, isn't it? Hang on—when was this?"

Blackjack shook his head and then began to gallop across the wall. Annabeth watched the horse jumped off the edge. Annabeth waited for the horse to open his wings, but he kept falling. Percy whooped. Annabeth ran towards the edge, and saw the horse pull up just before the ground.

Annabeth pulled a face. "Oh my gods—there's a reason only you can ride that horse!"

"Yeah—he's the horse equivalent of me!"

Annabeth shook her head and watched Blackjack fly off. Then . . . gone. She couldn't see him anymore. She searched across the sky, but saw nothing. She shook her head and climbed onto the narrow ledge that connected the balconies to the wall. She climbed over the railing of one and then fell face-first onto her bed. The room was meant to look like Cabin 6. There was a desk, a bed, the walls were a silvery-grey, and there was a portrait of an owl hanging next to the door.

But the owl was flaming. It was the Mark of Athena. Thinking of that filled Annabeth with a sense of pride. _She _had rescued the Athena Partenos, and she alone had seen it to the _Argo II. _But after that . . .

She tried to block out the rest. Things that you saw in Tartarus should really stay there—but they never did. They always sat there in the back of her mind, and every so often she would see something that made those memories come to the surface.

_Don't think about it, _she told herself, but she couldn't stop. Then something happened—she realised what Hazel had meant about blackouts, because she had one.

She was pulled into the past.

* * *

I pace in front of Caleb. He leans back on the wall. "You . . . what made you come _here_?"

"It's an uncharted place."

"That's no reason!" I snap. "Maybe before you aided Jeanine in my torture, I would've forgiven you—but those days are _dead_, Caleb. Now I can't even look at you."

He straightens. "Whatever," he shrugs. I'm about to explode at him, but he cuts me off. "Those kids—Percy, I think, and that girl that dragged me in—how can they fight like that? Those winds and that lightning—it was from _them. _They summoned it somehow. And the way they fight, I couldn't even see where the swords were."

"I don't care about what makes them different," I say. "What I care about is why the hell you showed up here."

He rolls his eyes. "So widdle Tris Prior can show that she can save the day? That she's the best. Why do you care I'm here? I'll likely get killed anyway."

I look down. He's right. Why do I care that he's here? Is it because I care about him? No, I can't—that _can't _be right. I look up into his eyes. They're different to how I imagine them. They seem darker, and glassier. I realise too late that the irises are rimmed with gold. His face slackens. "_She's the one,_" comes a voice like Caleb's—_exactly _like Caleb's—but it's not.

He takes a step towards me, and his hair changes to become messier, shorter—sharper.

_"Legions can be the best of hosts."_

* * *

_The walls were closing in around her. Annabeth was breathing hard. They'd been going for days—maybe weeks—non-stop. But she knew better than to complain, because they couldn't. If they stopped, they'd be killed. _

_Tartarus was more than just evil—it was cunning, dark, it was smart. Smarter even then her._

_Even if she was dead, she could feel her heart pounding. A phantom heart. Maybe there was something that happened to souls that were killed again in Tartarus—would they be trapped there?_

_Were they trapped there already?_

_"Annabeth!" _

_She heard Percy's voice, it sounded distant. She gripped his hand. That wasn't._

_They kept running. She could hear voices, whispering to her, taunting her—but she never listened to much. They were trying to lure her away. They were trying to separate them._

_But then they stopped. "Percy, come on!" she said, pulling his hand, but he wouldn't move, his gaze fixed in front of him. Annabeth followed it._

_There was a whistling sound, and then pain exploded in her arm. "_Annabeth!" _Percy screamed. Annabeth stumbled away, black vaporous blood spilling from the wound. She looked up . . ._

_And wished she hadn't._

_There he was, swinging his scythe. Kronos._

_"Well, well, well," he mused. "They're dead at last."_

_Percy's sword caught Backbiter as Kronos leisurely swung it. "Don't—touch—her," he said through gritted teeth. Kronos smiled. "You shouldn't have to worry about her, grandson."_

Grandson.

* * *

**Ta-da! Does that make up for the wait? I'm sorry, guys.**

**So, toe-walker, like that disclaimer? Yeah, I'm starting to do what Rick did with Hazel's blackouts, but these have answers in them! They are important! Oh, and toe-walker, I figured I should've said this in the review replies, but the ending of Insurgent really DID suck. But I liked Insurgent for the amount of freedom it gave for fanfics. **

**I get that from my mum.**

**You know what? Summer's starting, and Christmas is getting closer! I'm now wearing my Santa hat around school . . . starting from tomorrow, seeing as I just found it. Hehe. **

**Okay guys,**

**Until the next chapter,**

**Please R&R (or PM),**

**-Owl**


	12. Chapter 12

**Yeah! I'm back, I'm alive, and I have returned with a new chapter that I foundreallyhardtowritesoI'msorryifitturnsoutbadokay? **

**Phew, that's better.**

**Review Replies:**

**Cat (again): really? I never guessed! I have to say, I think you need to do some more reading - other than fanfiction, just so you know. There's nothing wrong with books! And just because I have reached my limit on how many books I'm allowed to borrow does ****_not _****mean that I'm insane - even though stating that is basically stating the obvious. We're both insane and proud of it - why be sane when you can be insane?**

**toe walker: thank you! Good to hear you liked that disclaimer! Wow, is it really that cold? Jeez, that's ****_freezing. _**

**Oh, if any of you people (readers!) were reading the Cavern back when it was up, and then genius here took it down, I'm gonna re-post it, if you want to, because I still have the files saved on fanfiction . . . I'm looking at them right now . . .**

**It'll be for only a short time, so I finish them, and then I'll take it down, so get on while you can and tell me what you think I should do in a review or PM!**

**Disclaimer: NO I AIN'T VERONICA OR RICK SO I DON'T OWN A THING!**

* * *

**_Chapter 12: Legions are Hosts_**

I take a step back. Caleb laughs—not like him, like something else. Then when I look into his eyes, the irises are gold, and his eyes are glassy. This must be the same thing that happened to me. What had they called it . . . ? An Eidolon.

_"You were something we should have foreseen," _Caleb says. "_Something . . . we can't make the mistake of letting them stay."_

"What do you mean?" my voice is shaky. I'm afraid. I have no weapons, and Caleb is a good foot taller than me. He would kill me easily. What can I do? If I turn to call for help, he'll lunge.

_"Something the gods have waited for—yes, we can see why. But something they didn't expect . . . no one expected _those _two to come here. They were dead. They should have been."_

I know who he's talking about. Percy and Annabeth.

_We're meant to be dead, because we are._

They aren't lying, even though there has been mountains of proof to back up their claim, and that I already believed it, now that this Eidolon is saying it . . . it proves it entirely for me.

I want to call for help. I need it. I can't take down Caleb on my own. This isn't Peter—Caleb doesn't want to humiliate me and cause me pain. Caleb wants me dead; and he has the power to do that.

I back away slowly. Every step I take back Caleb takes towards me. _"What's the matter? Afraid?"_

I snarl. But I am. I'm shaking, and my breath is ragged. I can feel my heart pumping. My fear is making me come alive. It's in these times all my regrets are caused.

"_You're little friends aren't here to help you now," _Caleb says. "_No one can drive us away."_

I can't take it. I have to run. I turn as fast as I can and then bolt. I can hear Caleb running after me. I don't know where to go. I run up the stairs and along the row of rooms on the second level. Some wiring makes me stumble, and I'm going so fast that I skid. I get up and wipe the blood of my chin. Then there's nowhere else to go. I look over my shoulder at Caleb. He's coming closer.

The edge of the floor is just a fence. It's short.

I won't die at the hands of my brother. I won't give him that satisfaction. Even if it means suicide.

I pump my arms and run. Caleb's fingers scrape my shoulder. I close my eyes and grab the fence, in one smooth movement, I swing over it.

Into open air.

* * *

_Annabeth grasped her arm and watched Percy and Kronos fight. But Kronos had never fought this Percy. He'd never fought one who was dead, who had been in Tartarus, whose skills in fighting had advanced maybe 10 years in not so long on the run. Annabeth knew the heart of Tartarus was where the worst Titans and monsters were kept. They were getting closer to the Doors._

_"Well, it seems you've become more of an adversary," Kronos said. "But no one can defeat time."_

_He swung his scythe, but Percy caught it. Annabeth couldn't bear to look at Kronos' face. It wasn't Luke's. It was horrible, worst of all those bright golden eyes. _

_Kronos managed a cut to Percy's arm. Kronos' smiled maliciously. "There's no Luke to save you now."_

_That made Percy mad, Annabeth knew, because it made her mad too._

_She got to her feet, and gripped her knife harder. She was going to do this—for Luke. _

_"Yeah?" Percy said. "Well, if no one can defeat time, why do people constantly try?"_

_He swung at Kronos's scythe and then rammed the butt of his sword into Kronos's chest. The Titan Lord stumbled back a step, in shock of actually being hit. Then he snarled, and charged at Percy again. _

_That was her chance. Annabeth threw her dagger. It caught Kronos dead in the chest and sent him flying backwards. The Titan clawed at the knife, and wrenched it free. _

_As he looked up Percy kicked him away and grabbed her knife. He chucked it to her and grasped her hand. They took off running again. Kronos was coming after them, she knew it._

_But there was nothing there. _

_And then there was nothing._

_A laugh echoed through the black. "Sometimes the greatest threat . . ." they said. "Is nothing."_

_And then she screamed._

* * *

The air is rushing past my face, and I can feel my hair flying out behind me. It's strange; really, how clear everything is in that split second before you almost die.

Quite like the reason I didn't was because a huge, flying black horse appeared out of thin air in time to catch me.

"Whoa," said a voice. "Awkward."

I knew that voice. Percy.

"What the—"

"You're welcome for me saving your butt," he snapped. I was sprawled across the horse's shoulders. I followed his gaze. He is looking at Caleb, with glassy golden eyes even I can see in the night.

The horse makes a whinnying noise. "Don't remind me," Percy says. It took me a moment to realise that it's directed towards the horse—or Pegasus, I should say.

The horse snorts. Percy crosses his arms. "Now that is just—"

"_We meet again, Sea Spawn."_

"Oh great," Percy mutters. He calls up to Caleb, "I'm not sure about what was going through your transparent head at the time, but why on earth and Olympus did you pick _him_?"

"_Legions can be the best of hosts."_

"Don't get me started on _Legions,_" Percy says. "Do you remember Octavian? _He _was—"

"I am not interested in ridiculous Legions of Apollo that can't even read the auguries. He should have foresaw what the gods had planned—he should have acted."

"But he didn't, did he?" Percy snarls. "No, he saved his skinny butt by being the lying, cheating kid he is."

The Pegasus stops at the balcony and Percy jumps off, landing on the rail. He stares down at the possessed Caleb. "Do you have any idea how many windows there are to the mortal world there are in Tartarus? Do you? I wouldn't expect you to."

_"I know, Sea Spawn. I am _of_ Tartarus!" _Caleb grabs Percy's arm and yanks him down. "You know, it just sounds wrong when you put it like that," Percy comments.

The Eidolon-Caleb throws a punch, one that I would've had no hope of evading, but Percy steps aside like it's no big deal. He leans on the rail. "So you know that I saw what that kid did. I know how many people he _condemned."_

_"He should have stopped the gods!"_

"That's where you lose me," Percy ducks under Caleb's wild punch and pushes him back with his foot in a smooth motion, slamming Caleb into the wall. Percy straightens on the rail. "I'd use Riptide, but for someone that's been in my head I don't think they deserve the honour of dying by the sword."

"_Honour?" _Caleb spits. "_Don't talk about that."_

"Why not?" Percy cocks his head and gives a mischievous smile. I sit back on the Pegasus. It looks back at me, saying, _Get off or prepare to hold on._

I grab the rail and slip off the horse's back. It flies off so fast I can still hear the ringing in my ears. Percy gestured with his hands. "I may have _died _before all that _started, _but I'm here _now, _so I can _kick your butt_."

The Eidolon laughs and swings at Percy, but this time he doesn't sidestep. He grabs Caleb's fist in the air, right in front of his face. Caleb wrenches his arm back, but Percy doesn't let go. "Time for payback, I'd think. There aren't many ways to um, get you out without sorta killing Caleb, so I'll have to do something ridiculous."

"Don't kill him," I say, surprising myself. I shouldn't care about Caleb. _Faction before blood. _I used to think of that as some cruel joke, or something that fuelled bad things for me. Now I was thinking of it as a way to be okay if Caleb got killed. But that doesn't work. Whether or not I hate the Erudites, like Jeanine, there are a rare few that are normal. I have a feeling Caleb isn't one of them.

But I can't bear the thought of Caleb getting killed. Percy shrugs. "I just need some water."

Caleb throws his other fist as a punch, but Percy uses Caleb's other fist to smash away his incoming one, and then grabs it and twists his wrist, flipping him over.

"Well I guess I know where Annabeth learnt that from now," Percy muttered to himself. Caleb launches himself at Percy from the ground, but Percy doesn't move. He rubs the back of his neck, Caleb smashing into his knees. "I think you're meant to knock me over," he says with mock concern. Caleb's glassy eyes look up at him. _"Foolish demigod. It's a shame you're still alive."_

Then I hear a whooshing noise. Percy glances back and grabs a bottle of water as the horse flies by. It must have thrown it to him. "Thanks, Blackjack—I owe you one!"

Then he opens the bottle. "If you know what's good for you, Eidolon, you'll get lost before I tip this bottle upside down."

And just like that, the gold in Caleb's eyes disappears and he slumps onto the ground, unconscious.

Percy shrugs. "That was a bit . . . odd? Never actually fought another person—like, legitimately."

"What about the—?"

"Eidolon? We'll have to wait for Annabeth to wake up for her to get rid of it. For now, I'll have to hope that threat holds out."

"What's so bad about a bottle of water?"

Percy takes a gulp and then grins. He caps the bottle, and then hurtles it off the balcony. It explodes across the car park. "That."

* * *

Whimper.

This is how the world ends, not with a bang but a whimper.

_Annabeth whimpered against Percy's shoulder. She was so used to having _something, _and now there was . . . nothing._

_Except Percy. He was there. That couldn't be right. That made it something._

Between the idea,

And the reality,

Between the emotion,

And the act,

Falls the shadow,

For thine is the kingdom.

_Hollow Men. T.S. Elliot. Verse 5. Annabeth knew it. Why was she thinking it?_

Of empty men.

_Was that nothingness? Emptiness?_

Nothing cannot survive without something in which to draw away the substance. Nothing cannot exist without something to hold it together. And something cannot exist without nothing to pull it away.

_Annabeth closed her eyes. Nothing. Hollow. Empty. Eyes without sight. Speech without sound. Feelings without emotion. Was that nothing?_

Sometimes the greatest threat . . . is nothing.

_There is no greatest threat._

_There isn't one._

_That's it—there is _no _threat. _

_And that was the threat. _

_The threat of no threat that could drive people to insanity. That was the threat._

_She was to brilliant a mind to end with insanity._

_"Percy," she said softly._

_Nothing. What's left after the world ends; nothing._

This is the way the world ends, not with a bang but a whimper.

_"We have to make a bang."_

* * *

**Okay, there you are for all you Beautiful Creatures fans out there!**

**I'm a fan of that poem from ****_way _****back, and now I finally can put it into a fanfiction. Whoohoo.**

**Okay, so, remember what I said about The Cavern, and, well . . .**

**Until the next chapter,**

**Please R&R,**

**-Owl**


	13. Chapter 13

**Well, I'm back. I'm not particularly sure whether that is a good thing, but what IS a good thing is that I HAVE A NEW CHAPTER WITH ME! Just a heads uup, the first line where it says "That" is Tris's last line in the last chapter (When Percy made the bottle explode. I'm sorry but I like making my characters powerful!) So yeah.**

**YES! Do you know how many words are in this chapter? Go on; guess. I ****_dare _****you.**

**Can't guess? I shall enlighten you then: 8,294.**

**Which is the equivalent of 19 pages on word. (Hehe)**

**I AM ON HOLIDAYS! WHOOP!**

**Review Replies: **

**toe walker: XD**

**LucyReywood: thank you so much!**

**Beth: well, I made that up. So . . . original quote I guess. !**

**percypotter: well, this _is _the update! So YAY! **

**Awww thanks guys for liking by story! :3**

**Disclaimer: I HAVE NO IDEA WHAT VERONICA ROTH LOOKS LIKE BUT I DON'T LOOK LIKE HER AND I AM NOT A GUY AND CAT'S KICK-ASS IDEA ISN'T MINE EITHER AND YES I'M TALKING IN CAPITALS AND ANNOYING YOU AND SWEARING BUT I'M JUST SO HAPPY THAT ****_SCHOOL IS OUT_**** AND PLEASE READ ON!**

* * *

**_Chapter 13: Unravel_**

_"That," he said._

_But now it all blacks out, and I see only darkness. "Power is not something to trust," says an acidic voice. I want to run, to escape the force that holds me there, but I can't, I can't move. It's worse than when I was injected with the paralysis at Erudite. It's almost as if the force is bending my will to make me stay there._

_"Very good," it says. "I would expect nothing less from you, Legion."_

_I want to reply, but I can't. Everything in this place is stopping me from doing what I want to do, everything has been limited to _can't.

_"Even better," the voice says again. "You're lucky I am being lenient with you. If my . . . dilemma wasn't so strong your mind would have been crushed, and you would be my puppet."_

_Dilemma? This force is crippling me. I can't move, I can't speak, I can only stay frozen where I am, thinking and listening to the voice of this force. But . . . what could be so powerful to present a problem to this?_

_"Problems are disguised until they rise," it says. "But when they rise . . . it's too late."_

_What does it mean? Is there a problem I should see but cannot? _

_"Oh yes," it says. "The problem has been under your nose the whole time. It is hidden so well even I must say I am impressed. I expected no less from it."_

_My ability to think is clouding, it's like the effect of pain, but much stronger, and dulling rather than sharp. I have to get out of here. Then I hear something, another voice, familiar, but I can't place it in my dulling mind._

_"Let her go—she isn't part of this."_

_I begin to slip away. "Go!" the new voice says again, and instead of seeing black, when people always see, my eyes open._

"Tris, come on, get up," Tobias is shaking my shoulder. I rub my eyes, still haunted by what I felt. That force had a dilemma—one strong enough to get me out. I can't decide which I'm more afraid of.

_The problem has been under your nose the whole time._

I sit up, and a throbbing erupts in the back of my head. Tobias looks at me, concerned. "Are you okay?" he asks. I nod. I can't let anyone see my weakness.

I slide out of the bed, still in my clothes. I was too nervous to sleep in pyjamas. The sun is on the horizon, slowly rising into the dark sky. Someone knocks on the door. "You, up and at 'em," I recognise the voice of the girl from the night before—Thalia.

Tobias takes my hand, and then picks up my pack as well as his own. "No," I say. "I'll carry it."

"You don't look so good," he doesn't meet my eyes. I take a step back, and then open the draw. Inside is a small mirror. I hold it up, and see what he means. I made no attempt to clean myself up after the Amity bombing. My hair is splattered with blood, and there's a long cut down my jaw. My face is grimy, like I face-planted in the mud.

I sigh and put the mirror back. "I'm okay. Besides, that's not the problem."

_The problem has been under your nose the whole time._

That phrase is haunting me rather than the force. Tobias shakes his head. "That may not be the problem, but I'm not letting you carry this. Caleb is a nutcase, and you can't have your hands full when dealing with him."

"He was possessed."

"I know," Tobias says softly. "I saw it all, Tris. I saw you try and commit suicide. Remind me to say thanks to Percy for you."

I don't reply. Tobias knows me too well for me to try and lie about something. But seeing Caleb possessed had unnerved me. The fact that those spirits could possess anything . . . that they had senses of malice, to prey on my brother—that scared me. The simulations couldn't do that, but these could. Maybe we had made a mistake.

_Once open, they cannot be closed._

I had not thought that. That wasn't my thought. I look at Tobias. "Fine. But I only did that because I refused to die at the hands of Caleb."

Tobias nods. "Come on—we have to go."

I draw in a breath, and let it out again. I don't know why, but I take his hand. He looks at my small hand in his, and then at me. "You're okay? Really?"

"No," I admit. "But I'll never be okay again."

He doesn't ask any more questions.

* * *

If Percy hadn't woken Annabeth up when she'd blacked out, she was pretty sure she wouldn't have woken up. But the voice was still in her head, almost taunting her. Every now and then she would hear it whispering.

_See the link . . ._

What link? There was no link! She hadn't been able to sleep after that. She lay in her bed and stared blankly out of the chicken-wire glass window, thinking. She thought about the blackout, she thought about what that voice was telling her. Then, of course, she thought about death.

Death. It was so small in comparison to what they'd done. She could see the ridges of the scars on her hand in the dim light. She should've died and then been transported to Hades, but _no. _They died in Tartarus. And Tartarus holds the evil for a reason.

They can't get back out.

But how had they gotten out, if that was so? There were three archways . . . and they chose the one that led here. Was that a good or bad thing?

And then there was something else, something that scared her possibly more than anything.

Percy.

He himself didn't scare her at all—gods no!—but something was . . . off. He was more guarded than ever, even in Tartarus.

The voice laughed in her head softly. _See the link . . ._

Something was _wrong. _He didn't suddenly _change. _And the fact that the voice was taunting her with it was nearly as irritating as the usual Percy. She rubbed her eyes. Since when was her life so complicated?

Then she yelled at herself for thinking like that. Her life was just complicated. Always was and always will be.

She decided to stop thinking about herself and listen to what people were thinking. Most were thinking about death, and whether it was painful or not, and things like that, and that they were afraid of the incoming death. Annabeth often found herself wondering why now. She couldn't die. And it was driving her _crazy. _

Then she stumbled upon somebody _else's _thoughts. But they were _blocked. _How can you block your thoughts? She thought.

_Annabeth, please tell me why you're in my head._

It was Percy's voice. She jumped so hard she nearly fell out of the bed. _How did you know I was there?_

He didn't respond for a bit. _Trial and error. . . . And the fact that it makes my head buzz._

_Oh, _she said. She breathed out a sigh of relief. Maybe this wasn't as strange as she thought. _Can you sleep?_

_Nope. You?_

_That's like asking of I like spiders._

_Take that as a no . . ._

Annabeth smiled to herself. He was still a smart-aleck. _Is there a reason you're still awake?_

_Is there a reason _you're _still awake?_

_I was asleep when you woke me up. Then I started thinking._

_Ah, the attack of the thoughts!_

Annabeth gave a small laugh. _Idiot, _she said. Then she looked out of the window. _What actually happened with Tris and Caleb?_

Percy didn't reply for a moment, then a memory flashed in her head. _Mwahahaha. I'm getting good at this._

_Shut up and let me listen. _

She watched the memory. Tris jumping off the rail . . . Caleb's golden eyes . . .

_Well, you know how to find trouble._

_Since when is that a new discovery?_

_You're being a real smart-aleck, you know that?_

_Yes. Terminus told me when I first met him._

_Don't get me started on Terminus! _Annabeth cried, groaning. _Remember when the Eidolons made their first move?_

_Well . . . _Annabeth got the impression that he was about to say _duh. _But then he didn't say anything else.

_Percy? Where the heck are you?_

_. . . Be there in a second . . . _his voice was distant, and strained.

_What the heck is going on?!_

He didn't reply. Annabeth sat bolt upright. _So help me Percy—_

_I'm okay! _he said. _Really. I just . . . got a migraine?_

_Not funny, _she said. _Really, Percy. That was _not _funny._

Annabeth tried to see what Percy was thinking, but it was blocked so fiercely she doubted she'd ever come _close _to seeing what was there. _Why are you blocked off?_

_Because it's handy, _he said. _And because . . . no, that's it._

_What—is—the—other—reason? _She growled.

_There isn't one!_

_Do you think I've not learnt not to believe a word you say?_

_. . . Yes?_

Annabeth moaned. _You're such a pain, Percy._

_Thanks, I enjoy being one._

Annabeth got out of bed. _I'm going for a walk._

_Can I come?_

_No. _

_. . . Why not?_

_Because I'm walking up to your room to ask if you'd like to go for a walk in a monster-infested landscape._

He paused. _I guess that is a good reason. _

She pulled on a pair of black jeans. _Does the black annoy you?_

_Yes. Why can't there be like . . . red or something? Or green? Because they have grey . . . heck, they even have blue! Why not green?_

Annabeth rolled her eyes and shrugged on a fleece jacket. She grabbed her dagger and inched open the door. She leaned out to check for monsters. When she was certain there was nothing there, she stepped out and silently closed the door behind her.

She ran her fingertips along the wall, and felt the numbers on the doors as she went past. _5 . . . 4 . . .3! _

She stood outside the door. _I won't knock because it'll be too loud. _

_Grrr-eeaaat, _he said. The door opened. "Fancy seeing you here! I was just about to go for a walk!" he whispered. Annabeth rolled her eyes. "Come on, Seaweed Brain."

Getting past the Hunter on duty was the hardest part. Percy tried the stupid approach and nearlt had his head shot off, so they decided to take the good old-fashioned way: crawl.

"Can't believe I'm _crawling," _Percy complained. "I mean, dying in Tartarus was one thing but—"

"Shut up!" Annabeth hissed. "I can hear something."

_See the link . . ._

_. . . The problem has been under your nose the whole time . . ._

_. . . Everyone has some darkness in them . . ._

_. . . Trust your enemy, fear your friends . . ._

_SHUT UP! _Annabeth screamed at them. But they kept repeating, over and over again in her head, like echoes—just instead of fading away they became stronger and stronger. She gripped the sides of her head. "Shutupshutupshutup!" she hissed.

"Are you okay, Annabeth?"

"No I'm freaking not!" she snapped.

"What exactly is going on?"

"There's a voice in my head that won't shut up. It keeps saying stuff like 'see the link' and 'the problem's been right under your nose the whole time' and even—"

Then it stopped. So suddenly she stumbled. "Are you okay _now_?" Percy asked, concerned. Annabeth found his face when he was concerned cute—in the cuddly-bear type way. Usually he stuck with his 'I am a total smart aleck' look.

She pressed the heels of her hands into her eyes and saw stars. "Nope. I'm hearing strange voices in my head, I can read minds—I am telekinetic to the point that I creep myself out—and I'm _dead."_

Percy lowered her hands from her eyes. "Don't need to add blind to that list too, you know."

"What about you? Are _you _okay?"

"Nope," he said. "And I never will be, probably."

Annabeth waited for him to enlighten her, but he didn't. "So—are we going to go for a stroll for monsters, or are we going to have a nice chat about our feelings?" Percy said, raising his eyebrow in his sarcastic grin. Annabeth couldn't help but laugh. He was so ridiculous.

"Let's go looking for trouble."

He held out a hand and they pulled each other up. They started out into the wilderness around them. "Do you . . . do you think they missed us—in our time?" she asked. Percy squeezed her hand. "Definitely. Do we miss them?"

"Heck yeah," she said. "I can't believe I miss Leo's nutcase ideas."

Percy smirked. "Yeah, Valdez was kind of funny, looking back on it. I wonder what happened to them . . ." The thought drifted into silence. The silence stretched so far around them; a welcoming silence. Not like the silence of Nothing, but . . . silence.

Annabeth breathed in the clean air. It was cleaner than she had ever remembered it. She liked the silence; the cleanness, the fact that it was only her and Percy out in this huge expanse of emptiness other than the tall golden grass that swayed in the wind to an ebony sky. She liked it.

But nothing ever lasted.

"We should go back," she said. "I don't think there are any monsters out."

Percy shrugged. There! That silence—that wasn't like Percy at all. Usually he'd say something there, right? Or was she over-analysing it? She prayed she was.

* * *

We stand in the car park. The strangeness of last night has finally settled in on me. I was rescued by a _flying horse. _And this horse stands behind Nico—its wings folded neatly. As I look into its dark eyes, I can see that this horse is smarter than it looks, and that it has seen far more than it should have.

"Where are they?" Nico snaps again, pacing back and forth, his thick overcoat drifting behind him as he walks. "If they are doing something that I don't want to know about—"

"Nico! That's gross!" Thalia says. "You have a dirty mind, Death Boy."

"You have a violent one."

"Duh."

Nico keeps pacing, a pale hand on the hilt of his sword. "They should be here, they should be here, _they should be here, _for the gods' sake!"

"Hey, is that them?" Thalia asks, pointing to the entrance of the car park. Nico turns so fast his coat hangs in the air for another three seconds. "Yes, it is," he's angry, only an idiot would disagree. "Get your butts over here, you two!"

"Well, sorry, but the insane of the Divergent need some let's-be-insane-in-random-places time."

"Being insane is not an excuse!"

"Was for you, Death Boy. Remember when we fished you out from the jar? Being insane was a good excuse _then_."

"You're not me."

"Exactly, so we get to take more advantage of it," Percy said smugly. Nico sends Percy a death-glare. "Where's your stuff?"

"What? Are we leaving?"

Thalia face-palms herself. Nico balls his fists. "Yes, Kelp Face, we—are—_leaving."_

"Could've said so," Percy says absently.

. . .

We trek through the day. It's both easy and hard at the same time; easy because the land is flat and shapeless, and hard because the grass is sharp and it cuts. The weather is a strange hot now; a different heat to the thick, dry heat that I have felt so much—it's a more wet heat than a dry heat, one that produces heat and it stays.

Caleb follows Nico like a dog. It's unnerving how he's become so . . . mindless after that night in room 12. His eyes are blank, fixed on an invisible horizon, and his hands knit themselves together with twitching fingers. His stance is completely different, hunched over with small steps. It makes me nauseous just to look at him. Maybe even angry at Nico, Percy, Annabeth and Thalia. It was _their _idea to put him in there. _They _did it him. It's _their _fault.

"Hate this humidity," Thalia complains. "Since when was it ever this humid?"

"You tell me, Thalia," Annabeth says. "I've been missing for the last hundred years."

"I have no idea what you people are complaining about," Percy says.

Annabeth and Thalia groan. Nico cuffs Percy with his shoulder. Percy cuffs him back.

I wipe the sweat from my forehead. I want to stop walking _now. _My jeans are tight and clammy on my legs, which is annoying me. I can hear Tobias panting in the ferocious heat.

There's a stabbing sensation on my arm, and I look down to see a strange insect there. I look up at Nico. Somehow I have come to regard him as the leader of the expedition. Annabeth looks at me. She always seems to look at me when I need to get someone's attention.

She walks over and looks at the bug. "Looks like a mosquito . . ." she murmured. "Yo, Nico—what's these mozzie things that you've got?"

Both Nico and Thalia whip around. _"Kill it now!" _

I slap my arm to kill the insect. "What is it?" Annabeth asks. Nico winces. "They're . . . sort of enhanced mosquitos that feed off the _ichor _in a demigod's or legion's blood. They can be fatal if there are multiple bites."

"Why?" Annabeth asks. "I mean . . . they can't be that dangerous."

Thalia shakes her head. "When they bite, they inject a type of poison that only the _ichor _in the blood can fight. In one bite it can make them sick for a day or two. In two bites, it can make them sick for a week with _really _bad stuff—like gastro mixed with pneumonia mixed with eye problems and stuff. Basically it's a poison that irritates basically all things in the body. Then in three bites . . . fatal."

"She left out the bit where demigods are usually more immune to it than legions. Actually, we just _are. _Fifty per cent _ichor _versus the dregs after a few generations."

"Dude, whoever said it was fifty per cent?" Percy asked.

Nico pauses, thinking. "You're right. A nutcase like you would have to be more than fifty per cent."

I listen for something; I don't realize that I am until I don't hear it. Then I realise what it is: Uriah. He's Divergent, and yet this whole time . . . he hasn't been here.

"Tobias," I say. "Where's Uriah?"

Tobias looks away. "He couldn't come."

I don't try to hide my surprise. "Why not? He's Uriah! He . . . he just . . . Why?"

Tobias looks at me carefully before speaking. "He couldn't make himself. He . . . he didn't want to feel like he'd left her."

_Marlene. Lynn. _All the people we'd lost. Sometimes I still found myself waiting for them; Lynn's scathing comment on something I muttered, or Marlene's laugh.

But they aren't here. They're gone. Just like my parents . . . just like could. There is one part of me that is pulling towards them, wanting to leave this world and find them again. But I can't. Even if it kills me, I have to stay here. My role hasn't finished.

"Oh," I say.

Neither of us say anything more.

We keep going right through the day. Not stopping or slowing. Nico keeps up his relentless pace the whole time, since the dawn to now, nearly the sunset. Whenever someone goes up to him to ask for a rest, he gives them a glare that sends them back before they can say a word.

I drain my bottle in the moist heat, and eat some of the meagre supply of food I carry in my pack. The sweat on my feet is beginning to make me feel like my shoes are filled with water—they probably are. Just that water is sweat.

At last we see a break in the horizon. Nico picks up his pace. Without stopping, he begins to speak; "this is the next base from Homer. It's the largest base and the main training facility for the soldiers. The most secure anyway. Some of the best fighters have retired and come to train here."

"Does that mean we get a job?" Percy asks. Nico whacks him upside the head. "Before I found you sad excuses for kids, I was a trainer. I decided to take the routine look at the gates of Amity. Since I could shadow-travel, I went alone. And then I find my _most annoying cousin known to the gods _there. Great."

"You're welcome, _most annoying cousin known to the gods."_

Nico sighs irritably. "Anyway, this is our place for the next three days. You can't expect to get to Manhattan without some training."

"You're sure about that?" Annabeth asks. Nico shoots her a look. Annabeth grins, "Me and Percy could get, like, unnaturally high distinction with honours or something."

"I remember the days fondly when you found Percy as annoying as I did."

Thalia sniggers. "I remember those too. Ah, the good old days."

"Then how come it was _you _who said the key phrase—" Thalia cuts Percy off with a death glare.

As we get closer, I see just how secured the base is. It looks like a prison, or how I imagine the ideal one to be. The walls are solid concrete; ten feet high, with an iron gate just big enough to fit a truck in. It's manned by a guard in a small building at the top of the wall. Along the wall are rows of coiled barbed wire. Behind the wall sits a concrete building like the wall, with narrow windows. I can see mounted arsenal.

I swallow. This 'base' doesn't look as friendly as Homer.

"What's it called?" Annabeth asks.

"Odysseus," Nico says.

"Oh, that's so original."

We walk closer to the gates, and the Divergent begin whispering to themselves. The walls loom in front of us, and we can see the guard look down. He leans out of the window, and Nico yells up something in another language—the same foreign one that they use.

The guard stands there, wide-eyed. Then he retracts back into his room, and the gate is lifted open. Nico walks in with a purpose, and I edge towards the back of the Divergent. I grip Tobias's hand, despite the heat. He squeezes my hand, and we walk through the doors.

* * *

Annabeth could hardly believe the world she had known and loved had come to this. There should have been hills, terrain—anything! But there wasn't. Just flat, sweeping plains as far as the eye could see, and even beyond that. How was she meant to come to terms with that? Moreover, _how _had it become so?

Annabeth held her breath as she walked into Odysseus. The name had been so ridiculous at first she thought it was a joke, but as she walked inside, she realised why they had named it so.

It was huge, grey, locked from within, and it blocked everything else out. It was a cell, it wasn't theirs, there were hopes and dreams both destroyed and accomplished here. Odysseus.

A single person walked from the door of the base. It was a woman; tall, slender, but that look that told you that she was _way _stronger than she looked. Her mousey brown hair was pulled back in a bun and she had a tight-lipped smile—well, that's one more pleasant way of putting it.

Nico walked up to her. They spoke for a second, and then the woman turned to them. Annabeth saw that it was hard to tell her age—anywhere between twenty and forty, but she looked like she had the energy of a teenager. Her eyes were a deep blue, and Annabeth thought that they said a lot about her: fall into something bad with me, you'll never get out alive.

"Divergent," she said. Her voice was like Atlas'. She wasn't yelling, but her voice was powerful. "You have finally arrived. My name is Wilma, and I am one of the head trainers here. You will be staying here for the next few days. Angelo may have said three days, but he doesn't know. Until all of you reach a satisfactory level, none of you will leave."

_Not much has changed then, _Annabeth thought. She tapped into the woman's thoughts and felt her displeasure at seeing the state of the Divergent, the suspicion of Thalia being there, why Annabeth was staring at her (oops) and her annoyance that nearly twenty people with no training whatsoever would be staying here, and probably for a while. Then her eyes fixed on Annabeth again. _Almost like she's in my soul . . . _she thought.

Annabeth withdrew before she could realize anything.

The woman went on: "There are about twenty trainers here, which means that you may get one to each of you. The first day will hopefully be spent assessing your strengths, and the second will then be honing them with the specific trainer. Some of the skills we teach here are swordplay, archery, and martial arts. And let me tell you now," she paused and made eye-contact with every Divergent there. "Where you came from you may have seen things like bloodshed, bullets finding their marks, death, violence, the lot. And by the end of this, you'll be wishing you could go back to it."

The first minute was the one Annabeth enjoyed. The second, not so much. The actual head trainer came out—a man that looked about the same age as Nico, with sandy hair and hazel eyes. His voice was that deadly calm one that you couldn't trust. He asked Nico something, and her darling relative pointed at her and Percy. The Head Trainer nodded and walked over to them. He stuck out a hand. "Hi. Nico tells me you're the ones with the most promise. Name's Alec."

Annabeth shot Nico a glare and he smirked.

_You're so dead for this, _she said to him. His face paled even more than usual.

Percy shook it first. "Percy."

Annabeth shook the calloused hand next. "Anna."

_Is there a reason you're doing that? _Percy asked her. For a split second it caught her off guard. She hadn't figured out everything yet, but she was well on the way. Percy's part in her new abilities made no sense to her, but she couldn't let it show.

_Yes. I don't feel like giving him my real name._

_You don't let _me _call you Anna._

_'Wise Girl' is good enough. I'm never letting _him _call me that._

_Fair point. _

Alec shook her hand. "Okay. I guess you two should come with me."

"Wait—there's two more people: Tris and Tobias. They should come too."

Alec raised an eyebrow, but then shrugged. "I don't know who they are, so you have to go and get them."

Annabeth and Percy dove into the mingling crowd of Divergent and found Tris and Tobias near the back. "Come on," she said as the Divergent began to disperse, following Wilma into the main 'gym' as she put it.

"Why?" Tobias asked.

"We've got the Head Trainer interested in you guys too. Now come _on_."

They led the two back to Alec, who raised an eyebrow at Tris. Annabeth lowered her voice. "One mean word and you'll be dead before you can swear."

Alec nodded. He shook Tris's and Tobias's hand in turn. "My name's Alec," he said. "And our gym's this way."

He led them into the building the Divergent had disappeared into. The first thing Annabeth noticed was the blandness. It looked like a hospital, except instead of that anti-septic smell it was a more metallic smell: blood. It was enough to make Annabeth sick to the gut. They made people draw blood so regularly that the place _stank _of it. Tris put a hand to her mouth and swallowed. Tobias shuddered, and Percy gulped.

Alec stopped in front of a door that looked so much like one in a hospital that Annabeth wondered if Nico had been behind the design of the place. Everyone knew he hated hospitals.

Inside was like the Initiate Training rooms in the Pit. Plain, simple, and easily convertible. Alec pulled down a sheet that was hanging over one wall, revealing a rock-climbing wall. Annabeth looked at it, unimpressed. Wasn't there meant to be lava or something? Alec seemed to know what she was thinking—which she really hoped he wasn't, because she had very, _very, _private stuff in her brain that she didn't want anyone to ever see.

"This is a practice wall. The real challenge is outside, out the back. A climbing wall with lava. It used to be what the demigods trained on before the wall. All the famous Greek heroes of the more modern age."

"What about Luke Castellan?" Percy asked. Alec's eyes went as wide as saucers. "How do you know about Luke?"

"How can I not know? Did he train on one—well, I know the answer to that—but was he a _hero_?"

Alec regained his calm so fast it was creepy. "Some regard him as a hero, and other regard him as one of the biggest traitors in history. Turning on his friends to aid Kronos. He killed many and sent just as many to their deaths—if not more."

Percy balled his fists in his pockets. Annabeth would've done so too, but her pockets weren't big enough. _That's not fair, _she said to Percy. _He saved Olympus. _

_What are we meant to do? _Percy sounded miserable—angry, but _miserable. They won't care about what we say. We're just part of the Divergent to them. And besides, they've had a century to drive these ideas in. How can we undo that?_

Percy was being smart. That was as much a shock as a nice surprise. He must've been _really _mad then.

"Anyway," Alec went on. "We may try this later. At this moment, though, what are your strengths that you know of? Like, running, punching . . ."

_Don't say something smart, _Annabeth told Percy before he could say just that. He shrugged.

"I fight," Tobias said. "I was one of the best . . . and mine and Tris's mental strengths are the best."

Alec nodded, pleased with them. "He left out that we can throw knifes," Tris said.

Alec grinned. He turned to Annabeth and Percy. "What about you two?"

"Well—" Percy began, but Annabeth cut him off.

"We're sort of . . . all-rounders, I guess. I mean . . . ask if we can do something, because I can't name any off the top of my head."

"Archery?"

"Yes," Annabeth said.

"_No," _Percy said.

"Swordplay?"

"Yes," they said in unison.

Alec raised an eyebrow. "Something tells me you've never seen a sword in your _life," _he said. "But I guess knives count. What about guns?"

"Guess so," they said.

"What about this rock-wall? What about with _lava_?"

They couldn't help it. They burst out laughing. "Is that the best you can come up with?" Annabeth asked. "What about—travel the length of Tartarus? Because I'm sure we couldn't do that."

"Oh, no," Percy said sarcastically. "Never."

Alec scowled at them. "Do this rock wall then."

Annabeth and Percy exchanged a look. Annabeth looked across to Tobias and Tris. "Would you like to join us?"

They shrugged.

Annabeth ran up to the wall and jumped, grabbing the first hand-hold she saw. She couldn't reach the next on with her free hand, but her feet were secure. She pulled herself up with her hand and swung across for the next one—an awkwardly-shaped blue one that was painful under her knuckles.

"You're meant to use a harness first, you know," Alec called up after her. Annabeth laughed. "Yeah, right."

She grabbed the next one she could reach and worked her way up the wall. She was enjoying herself. The last few holds were hard to reach, and involved her having to launch herself from one to the next, but then she was looking down at them all from the top. Tris was slightly higher than Tobias, and Percy was casually looking up from the ground. _Nice one._

_Why aren't you up here?_

_I felt like seeing Alec's reaction to you climbing it. _

Annabeth smirked. "Does that count as a yes?"

Alec's eyes were bulging. He nodded.

After a few minutes, Tris climbed up, and after her was Tobias. Alec looked across to Percy. "Why aren't you up there? Scared of heights?"

"Oh, did you want me up?" Percy asked casually. Annabeth face-palmed herself. Percy smirked and climbed up the wall in at least half the time it had taken her. "Better?"

Alec's look of surprise was replaced by a cunning smile. Come on down then."

Percy was the first to be an idiot. He jumped.

Annabeth jumped after him, and as her feet touched the ground she rolled, then came up standing. She bowed. Tris was grinning down at them. Then she started climbing down, having to jump at some points to get to the next hand-hold. Tobias climbed down after her, and soon they were at the bottom again.

Alec ran a hand through his hair. "Well, Nico wasn't exaggerating."

"I thought you would've known Nico enough to know that he doesn't exaggerate," Annabeth pointed out.

"And you would?"

"Yep. I knew him when we was—"

_Shhh. See the link . . ._

Annabeth groaned silently and rubbed her temples. "I know Nico well, that's what I'll say."

Alec raised his eyebrows, but dropped the subject. "I guess you did well there . . . I'm thinking we should move on to swim—"

"You have a _pool _here?" Percy asked so enthusiastically that Annabeth imagined this was what he looked like back when Sally had him addicted to blue food. She grinned, remembering that time he _insisted _on a blue ice cream.

"Yeah," said Alec cautiously. "Not many people can swim nowadays, so—"

"People—can't—_swim?_!" Percy said. He hadn't been shocked many times, and Annabeth hadn't seen him shocked _that many times, _but boy, was he shocked _now. _"Dude, who can't _swim?"_

"Me," said Tris.

"And me," Tobias said.

Annabeth loved Percy's incredulous face. She was _never _going to let him hear the end of this.

But the fact that neither of them could swim—the fact that not many people _knew _what swimming was . . . how was she meant to understand that? Moreover, why on earth why they putting on this act to be just part of the Divergent?

_Because I have a feeling there are heaps of people out there that still want us dead, _Percy said. Annabeth shook her head.

"Not many people _understand _swimming," Alec said grimly. "How do you, then? Chicago was said to have no pools left, so how would you know?"

_Because . . . Annabeth, why did we agree to acting like we're normal Divergent?_

Annabeth blinked. She'd have to ask him about that later.

"I just do," he said, though Annabeth could hear the tightness in his voice. Alec didn't look convinced. His heavy scowl returned. "Well, I guess we'll have to start with the basics. Holding your breath underwater."

_Does that mean we're not allowed to breathe? _Annabeth shoved Percy when he said that. He cracked a smile. Alec led them out of the room. "If you're still in one piece after this, then we can move onto martial arts."

* * *

Alec makes us strip to our bottom layers of clothing before we can get into the pool. My jeans and top have no warmth, but the air in the pool's room is so humid I don't need warmth. The pool gives off an eerie blue light into the room. The pool itself is still, but it makes me jittery. It looks deep, and although there are lights in it, it looks dark.

Alec stands on the other edge. "Time to get in," he says. I swallow, and I'm shivering.

"What, we just . . . get in? No safety procedures or anything?" Percy asks. It all sounds foreign to me. What is he talking about?

"Nope. Show me how to get in."

"Are we allowed to bomb?"

"No," Alec and Annabeth tell him at the same time.

Percy crosses his arms indignantly and jumps in. Annabeth follows his lead. I clench my jaw and step in, falling into the water.

As the water closes above my head, it's cool. I can feel myself being dragged downwards, but it feels . . . nice. It makes me feel weightless. The water stings my eyes and I clench them closed, but then I open them. It's blurry, but I can see the blue light around me.

I keep sinking down. I become aware of pain in my chest, like my lungs are being crushed. I'm suffocating.

I try to get up, I flail and claw at the water, but I'm being dragged down. I open my mouth to yell, but water fills it and I cough. This it. Death by drowning.

But then someone grabs my wrist and pulls me up. I break the surface of the water and cough. My throat is burning, my eyes sting, but it's such a relief to be able to breathe again I hardly notice.

I was stupid. I shouldn't have gotten in the pool. I was to be executed by being drowned. How could I not have thought of that? How could I have been so stupid?

Someone lifts me onto the side of the pool, where I cough the water out of my lungs. I can hear someone doing the same thing next to me. "I should've got a summer job as a life-saver," Percy says.

"Not funny," Annabeth says. "Tris, Tobias—you guys okay?"

I want to tell her yes, I'm alive, and that classifies as okay for me, but I can't; I can only cough. Annabeth puts a hand on my shoulder. I recognise the feel of her hand. Then she takes it off. She must realise that I don't like appearing weak. And I was the weakest I'd ever felt just now.

I risked my life to get out of the city. Now it's ruining it.

"What was that for? Aren't you meant to help when someone is drowning?" Annabeth snaps at Alec. He doesn't reply for a moment. I don't look at either of them; my eyes are squeezed shut.

"This isn't a place for weakness," Alec says. "If they die, they die. The weaker are removed. We actually have hearts here. If they get killed out there—they'll be wishing they died here."

"What _is _out there, though?"

"Remains of an army that should've been destroyed. Now we're heading to war all over again. We had so long to defeat each other, but _no. _Here we are, nearly one hundred years later, fighting the same war. With allies as enemies, and enemies as allies. There is no safety in the real world, trust me."

"That doesn't mean you let people _die _and don't lift a finger to help them!" Annabeth yelled. "Have you actually _been _to war? Have you _seen _what's out there?"

"What do you take me for? Some poser?" Alec's voice is rising. But he should know better than to argue with Annabeth. Death doesn't faze her.

Annabeth paces, I can hear her rapid steps on the floor. I wonder wear Percy is. "Percy, get up here," Annabeth kicks the water, making it splash. I stop coughing long enough to look up and see Percy break the surface. "Yes?"

She glares at him.

My throat is aching from all the coughing I've done, but I stop coughing now. I feel sick, but I shuffle away from Annabeth. She looks up from Percy and at Alec again. Percy sinks back down. As he's about to go under again, Annabeth snaps, "get back up here, Seaweed Brain."

He gets up and sighs. "Fine," he says, climbing out of the pool.

Alec glares at Annabeth through narrowed eyes. "I was on the front line with Nico in the largest skirmish in the last ten years. Half of each army was wiped out. I know what war looks like."

"Do you know what it's like to _send _people to their deaths?" Annabeth asks. "Have you led an army where people have died?"

Alec's crossed arms tighten over his chest. "No."

Annabeth straightens in victory. But then her voice drops. "You don't want to."

I struggle to my feet. I realize Tobias has been coughing next to me. I look across at him, and he looks at me. "You okay?" he mouths. I nod. This isn't the place to have a meltdown.

Alec points to the pool. "Maybe you have done that. But I'm the trainer here. Now _get back in the pool."_

Annabeth and Alec glare at each other. Finally Annabeth backs down. She sighs and gets back into the pool. Alec glares at Annabeth, then snaps, "if you can't control yourself, Anna, you can leave this class and head to main stream."

Annabeth's eyes become hard—her level of hard—as she glares back at him. "_No one _puts me in main stream. You hear me? Not even _Tartarus _puts me in main stream."

"You have no idea what Tartarus is," Alec scoffs.

Annabeth narrows her eyes. "Try me."

Alec raises an eyebrow, but it's clear that Annabeth has cut off the subject.

The next few minutes are tense as we all pray that neither Annabeth nor Alec start another stand-off, which will result in frayed nerves. The first thing that Alec made us do successfully was hold our breath beneath the water. I hold on to the side of the pool as I go under. I last barely a minute, and in the end Alec has to tell Tobias to get Percy to come up.

Annabeth and Alec make the point of not looking at each other. After Alec finally thinks that he is superior to Annabeth, he begins to tell her what to do, and challenge her. Many times she could have started a stand-off, but she fumes in silence.

When at last Alec decides that we should move on to swordplay, Annabeth was beyond arguing. The only thing that catches my attention is when Annabeth glares at the ground and Percy winces. I know better than to ask about it. The swordplay room looked like a gym. Except there were rows of swords and daggers along one wall.

Alec strolls next to them. "I will be accessing your type of sword today. Whether or not it is your best skill, it is an essential. We'll start with Tobias."

Tobias walks to Alec, who rummages through the swords there. "Long or short?"

"Personally I'd say a shorter one," Percy says. "I mean, when you have a swing as strong as that kid's, a strong one could pack more punch than a long one, mind you, that would be good too, but—"

"Who's the trainer here, Percy?"

Percy crosses his arms. "Well, we've all been trainers at _some _stage."

"But are you right now?"

"I could be."

"Why is it, that when I'm not arguing with Anna it's with you?"

Percy shrugs. "Because I'm insanely awesome?" Annabeth then whacks him upside the head. "Ow," he mutters, rubbing it. "What was that for?"

She looks at him, and he shuts up.

"_Anyway," _Alec continues. "Try this one."

He hands Tobias maybe a two foot silver sword.

"Hang on," Percy interrupts. "You're using _mortal steel_?"

"Celestial Bronze became rarer and rarer until it was an urban myth. The few relics we have left are used by the Keepers."

"Keepers?" Annabeth asks.

"Keepers like Nico. Keepers were individual demigod heroes that the gods made immortal to keep watch over Chicago. The immortality wasn't true though, and many are now dead. We have maybe three Keepers left that fight for us. The rest . . ."

No one asks him to continue, because it's obvious. The enemy they fight have grown stronger and stronger until measures such as this have to be taken. There's an enemy, and there's this side, and between them is the expanse of nothing that they have worn down with the fighting. Which side are we on?

Alec fits the sword into Tobias's hand. "How does it feel?"

Tobias gives a small swing. "Good."

Alec nods. "Percy?"

"Nope."

"_What?_" Alec says. "What are you talking about?"

"Well, I'm sorry, but I already _have _a sword that has gone with me freaking _everywhere. _So I'm good."

"What does this sword _look _like?"

Percy sighs and pulls out a pen from his pocket. Alec laughs. "Great sword."

Percy grins. "Definitely."

He pulls off the lid, and it springs into a metre-long bronze leaf-shaped sword. Percy holds it up. "Neat, huh?"

"_Celestial Bronze_?"

"You got it."

Alec's mouth is gaping so wide he looks like a fish. "Where did you get it from?"

"Chiron, who was given it from Poseidon, who took it from Heracles after he failed in a head-on assault on Ladon, who was given it from the Huntress and past Hersprid Zoë Nightshade."

"_Chiron? Poseidon? Heracles? Ladon? Zoë Nightshade?"_

"Yep."

Annabeth crossed her arms. "And mine used to be cursed. You can move on to Tris now."

"What? Hang on—where's yours?"

Annabeth rolls her eyes and pulls a dagger out from her shirt sleeve that had been strapped to her arm. It's a bronze knife that I've seen her use so professionally that I fear her holding it. She smiles smugly at Alec's face. "And trust me; we _know _how to use them."

"Who are you?"

"Anna. Percy. Nothing new there."

Alec narrows his eyes at her, and then looks at Percy closer. He ponders something. "What's your last name?"

Percy smiles. "Figure it out, _trainer. _Something tells me you remember us."

Alec's eyes go wide. "No, you're like . . . _dead."_

"Yes indeed," Annabeth says dramatically. "And yet _here we are_. So, figured it out?"

"Percy Jackson. Annabeth Chase."

They grin widely. "You know," Percy says to Annabeth. "I didn't think it'd end up like _this_."

"This or Tartarus."

"This."

She nods. "Now, can we, like, go over there and start sparring or something, now that you know who we are?"

Alec's eyes are still wide. "Nico, you are _so _dead," he mutters.

"Nico's already half dead," Percy says as he walks past.

After Alec recovers from the shock of realising that Percy and Annabeth are _Percy and Annabeth, _he continues. "Annabeth may use a dagger, but you should really use a sword too."

I nod and take the sword he offers me. It's heavy, maybe too heavy for me to lift, but I do. It's not long, not even two feet, too long for a dagger and too short for a sword. It doesn't feel right in my arm though, too awkward. I shake my head. "No."

Alec takes it; then looks for something else. Then he hands me a strange sword—maybe the same length, but thicker, with a strange cut shape at the end—a scimitar.

It feels better in my hand, like my arm's strength could hold it well, that I can make a good swing.

"Yes," I say, eyeing the dark steel. Alec raises an eyebrow. "Not many people would go for the scimitar. . . . You remind me of someone. Maybe it's the eyes . . ."

"What about me? Who do I remind you of?"

"The video you supposedly saw had a woman called Amanda Ritter talking, yes? And she said her name was going to be Evelyn Prior? What's your last name?"

"Prior."

Alec's eyes go wider than they did for even Annabeth and Percy. "We need Nico. _Now_."

"What are you talking about?"

"Oi, you two!" he looks across at Percy and Annabeth, making them freeze mid-swing. "Yes?" Annabeth asks.

"You need to come with me. _Now. _This concerns _everything. _You too, Tobias."

I begin to put the scimitar down, but Alec stops me. "No, you'll need that."

* * *

Annabeth stood behind Tris as Nico talked to Alec. "Come on," she groaned. "You _know _I hate being in the dark."

Nico ignored her. Annabeth clenched her jaw. If they weren't going to tell her, then she'd have to find out.

She listened to what Nico was thinking, and nearly fell over.

_Evelyn Prior . . . Ritter . . . oh, Amanda, why? _She keyed into his head even further, and eventually all the information she needed hit her.

She stumbled back, but Percy caught her before she tripped. "What?" he asked.

Annabeth cleared her head of Nico's thoughts. "Prior . . . It's the name that Amanda Ritter took when she was put into Chicago. But Amanda Ritter . . . that wasn't her name. Her name . . . her name was Grace."

* * *

**CLIFFIE!**

**Gods I'm evil. PLEASE BLAME CAT, PEOPLE! I was going to make the chapter longer but when I wrote that line I was like: YES. **

**So yeah. You have to wait until the next chapter. *evil laugh***

**Random fact: I am now a Doctor Who ADDICT. So if you find any references in any future chapters, my apologies.**

**Spelling + Grammar errors: My bad. And I'm a really impatient editor when it comes to my own work, which is why there are so many and why my friends do my stories and I do theirs. So sorry.**

**Until the next chapter,**

**Please R&R,**

**-Owl**


	14. Chapter 14

**Hello, hello, hello! I have returned with ****_L'histoire. _**

**Yes, I know that was ****_French, _****but do I care? Not particularly. **

**YAY! Okay, I apologise in advance: this is a short chapter. I'M SORRY! But I had to end it there, because (a) I'm a troll like Rick and love ending on cliffhangers and (b) because the next chapter's going to be like 10,000 words.**

**Is that fair? *puppy eyes***

**Review Replies: **

**WaterandWisdom: Yay! Someone is prepared to wait for me! Whoohoo! Awww, thanks! DW is one of the greats! *fangirl/insane grin***

**toe walker: Yes, I know that was bad. I ****_am _****evil! MWAHAHAHAHAHAHA! YES I HAVE A NEW FRIEND! So that makes . . . three. YEAH!**

**guest: Well, here it is! The "Grace" issue isn't over, though. Hehe.**

** : Well, I was thinking of Jason's and Thalia's last name when I wrote that. I have my reasons. I haven't read Delirium, so . . . yeah. The only character I know called Lena is the Lena from Beautiful Creatures. No, I don't think that Nico's mum was named Grace, she had an Italian name, I think. Hang on - I'll check. Brb. Nope! Her name was Maria di Angelo. Well, me and my brain have a strange way of doing things. I'm forever stuck in 'fangirl' mode. *shrugs***

**angelwingz: well, I sort of designed Alec not to be liked, just he has a big-ish role. Chewing out has only just begun, mes amis! **

**Tobystalker: Well, here it is! Oh, and I read your profile (I TAKE MY REVIEWERS SERIOUSLY!) and being shy can be really fun, that is, if you're a cunning evil little PJO fangirl like me . . . *evil laugh* **

**Disclaimer: WELL I DON'T OWN EITHER OF THESE STORIES OR CAT'S KICK-ASS IDEA SO DON'T BLAME ME! I'M JUST AN INSANE FANGIRL!**

* * *

**_Chapter 14: Dark_**

_"WHAT?" _Percy yells so suddenly that I stumble. Tobias stumbles like me, caught as off-guard as all of us. Nico whirls around to face him. "Do enlighten us, Kelp Face."

"Dude, Amanda Ritter's—"

"Last name was Grace," Nico finishes sadly. Annabeth crosses her arms. This makes no sense to me at all. "Alec—go and get Thalia. She needs to hear this."

"So you're serious?" Percy asks. "I mean, _serious_."

"You mean life-and-death serious? Yes. Amanda Ritter was an alias. Amanda was her first name, and her last name was Grace."

"So that means that . . ." Percy began, and Nico nodded. "One of your best friends was her father, and another was her mother."

"I thought you were in a war."

"We were."

"Okay . . ." Annabeth covers her eyes. "This is getting really gross."

Nico shot her a look. "Coming from _you. _Besides, what did you expect? They were grown adults. And we have the records of Chicago here on the system. So guess what? Amanda Ritter—or Edith Prior, as she became—was the mother of Andrew Prior."

Thalia shoves open the door so hard I have to jump out of its way. "What are you talking about? Why does it concern Jason?"

_Jason. _That was my great-grandfather's name. What was my great-grandmother's?

"Thalia," Nico says tightly. "We . . . have some important news."

"Then freaking _spit it out, _di Angelo!"

Nico glanced across to Percy and Annabeth, and they shrug in unison.

"Thalia, you remember Amanda—"

"My niece, yeah."

"She . . . when she was in Chicago, she . . . had children."

Thalia's eyes go as wide as saucers. "She _what_?"

"Pinecone Face, you might want to put the bow down," Percy advises her. Thalia looks at her drawn bow and slings it back over her shoulder.

Nico continues gently, "her son's name was Andrew Prior. And then _he _had two children too . . . Caleb Prior and—"

"Tris," Thalia finishes. Annabeth mutters something that sounded like 'gods, this is so gross thinking about it.' Thalia's eyes remain fixed on me. "You're . . . well," Thalia regains her calm, coming over the shock. "It doesn't surprise me that you're one of the strongest Divergent ever. _Jupiter. _Geez."

"Hang on," Annabeth says. "Tris, your mother was Divergent, right? That's how you're Divergent?"

"Yes," I say, glancing over at her. Annabeth raises an eyebrow. "Then how is Andrew the one with the godly blood?"

"Divergence doesn't _only _appear in legions," Alec says. It's the first he's spoken since the news was revealed. "Sometimes it's as if the gods pick which generations are given it."

"But could it have something to do with who her mother was?" Annabeth asks. "If she was Divergent too, then who was her godly parent?"

"That's an interesting question," Nico muses. His dark eyes look towards me. "Tris, do you know you're mother's maiden name?"

Shame grows in the pit of my stomach. Slowly I shake my head, my eyes downcast. "She never said anything of her past life as Dauntless. I knew her only as a Prior."

I jump as Thalia wraps an arm over my shoulders. "Well, great-great niece, how ya doing?"

"Um . . ."

"Hey, Thalia, I think—just _think, _right?—that Tris may be having a hard time and now is not the time to do that, you know?" Annabeth says, wrapping _her _arm over Thalia's shoulders. I duck under Thalia's arm. Tobias is watching me silently. He wants to see what I'll do.

I open my mouth to say something, but a huge, echoing _WOOF! _interrupts me. Nico, Alec and Thalia look at each other. "Lock the door, get in the corner or something! She's awake!"

"Who is?" I ask. Tobias grabs my hand. The only people who aren't moving are Percy and Annabeth.

"Was that . . . ?" Percy asks, scratching his head in thought.

"Well, it might be . . ."

"She couldn't still be . . . ?"

"Annabeth! Percy! Get over here!" Nico hisses. "She's coming!"

"_Who _is?" Percy asks.

"Mrs O'Leary!" Thalia snaps. "Now, get _down!"_

"You're running from my hellhound?" Percy asks, looking blank. Annabeth raises an eyebrow. "One word: _why_?"

"She's a huge mother of a dog, with huge teeth that's been deprived of nice company for half a century," Nico blurts, reaching out to grab them. Percy takes a quick step back. "So? I'm going to see my dog." He turns towards the door and swings it open. Nico shouts, "Percy, what in the name of—"

"Stop talking to a dead kid, Death Boy. Why is it that _you _forget that?" Nico's face flushes angrily. Annabeth pushes him back towards the back wall. "It's Percy's funeral—which I will _not _be paying for!" she looks back to yell that at him. He grins and races down the hall.

I realise with a start that Tobias is right behind me. He seems as dark and mysterious as when I first met him. Why? I know Tobias well. His dark blue eyes look at me, reading my face as I turn around. I remember how he had always seemed distant, and now he looks as if he wants to be distant but is too stuck in the present. I want to be there for him, but something holds me back. The look in his eyes. _Not now, _they say.

I reach to take his hand, but then Percy walks in with a huge black, furry mass trying to squeeze through the door after him. His face is wet and his hair has been pulled up at the front. He grins at Nico. "Unless you were afraid of death-by-licks, I don't see what the problem is.

Nico, Thalia, Alec and Annabeth all face-palm themselves in unison.

. . .

The room we're staying at in Odysseus is small. We were explained to that there aren't enough rooms for this many of us, so we have to double up. Percy and Annabeth smirked when we were put in the same room. I suppose Nico had something to do with it.

The good thing about Odysseus is that there is a private bathroom. Tobias has fallen unnaturally silent, but I still hold back. I go to have a shower, the hot water feeling like heaven. When I come out, I find the spare clothes I had packed in the bottom of the pack I had brought with me. To be clean is such a relief that I am smiling the whole time.

As I open the door, I remember Tobias. The smile I've been wearing falls off my face. He sits where I left him, silent, hunched, looking at the wall. I walk over to him and sit down. He doesn't look at me.

"Tobias," I say cautiously. "What's . . . do you need anything?" Tobias has never struck me as someone who appreciated pity. He looks at me from the corner of his eye. "I don't _need _anything, no," he says slowly. "But . . ."

He shakes his head and looks at me straight. "Tris, you fit in everywhere you'll go. Me? I won't. People like you, trust you. I'm just . . . I don't fit in the way you do."

I remember him back when I had first come to Dauntless—how he was never really anyone's friend nor enemy. Just . . . there.

"Fitting in isn't everything."

He gives a bitter laugh with no humour. "Fitting in can save your life, Tris. The way you slide into everything, that you're made for everything . . . it's something I'll never be. You end up in a place like this—and you _work. _But I don't. In this place, it's all strange and it doesn't work with me. Maybe I'm not Divergent—maybe that's how I survived without anyone knowing. I don't know, just I don't . . . work."

I look into his eyes, seeing everything he feels through them. I lean my head on his chest. "You _are _Divergent. How else would you go through simulations like that? And, Tobias—you _do _fit. Just you can't see it."

Tobias shakes his head. "This isn't the world I grew up in—the world I leant to find a place in. This world isn't _ours. _Percy and Annabeth—it's theirs. Ours is back with the factions. And yet, at the same time, it's this one—and I can't _deal _with that, Tris! I just can't."

I close my eyes, feeling the tension in his muscles. "Then you have to give one up, Tobias."

He's silent for a long time. When I straighten up, I see it's because something's wrong. For the first time ever, I pull him into my arms, because this time it's him that's crying.

* * *

Annabeth had barely made it to the room before she had the blackout.

Percy had made some ridiculous excuse to go annoy Nico, and she'd sat down on the bed, and then . . . nothing.

_"A bang?" Percy asked. He didn't understand. Neither did she, really, but she had some dim idea of what she had to do._

_"Nothing can't exist without something—and to get to that something, we need a bang—something big. Not small. Like . . . huge."_

_"Earthquake huge?"_

_Annabeth's heart was hammering against her ribs. The Nothing around her was just . . . _there. _It was as if it were saying, _go on, try. _She swallowed. "I don't know . . . think of things like, darkness cannot be without light, and light . . ."_

_She whipped around to Percy. "We need a light—a really bright light. Like, a million times brighter than Riptide." _

_Percy looked around. Annabeth found it hard to tell if he was scared. He didn't look it. "And where did your geniusness get this really bright light?"_

_"I don't know!" Annabeth snapped. She shifted her weight to her other foot. "Come on—let's move."_

_"We _are _in Nothing, you know," Percy pointed out, still being able to use his sarcastic voice. "So going somewhere—in _Nothing—_leaves us where we started."_

_"I hate you sometimes, Percy," Annabeth moaned. He grinned. "Come on."_

_Nothing was like walking through nothing, really. They moved, but their surroundings never changed. Never. It was still the blank grey-black it had always been. Grey-black, Annabeth thought. Then she stopped._

_Grey. Black._

_Her heart hammered in her chest. She grinned. "Percy," she said. "Light can't exist without darkness—in light there is darkness, and in darkness there is light. So what about curses and blessings? Without a curse a blessing is nothing—"_

_"And without a blessing a curse is nothing."_

_Annabeth grinned. "Nothing."_

_Unless it was her imagination, Nothing seemed to shudder. She pulled out her dagger. "Come on—get Riptide out. My blade cursed—or it _was_—and then Riptide was used by Heracles—"_

_"Which some say means it's blessed," Percy finished. He lifted Riptide. "What do we do?"_

_Annabeth raised her dagger. "We get to stab Nothing."_

_"Oh," Percy said in the voice that always made her face-palm. "On three," she said. "One . . ."_

_"Two . . ." Percy said._

_"Three!"_

_She shoved her blade down into the grey beneath them. Her dagger hit and sunk in, white cracks spreading from it like glass. She looked up and saw Percy shoving Riptide down. He flashed her a grin. _

_The cracks grew bigger and bigger, growing wider and wider until they took up the whole of the greyness around her. A huge white one appeared between her and Percy, like a crack on a wall. It grew wider, as if something was pushing against it. She clenched her jaw and gave her dagger a final push, edging its hilt in. _

_The cracks exploded. _

_Beyond the cracks was white, and possibly other things, but it was too much of a shock for Annabeth to notice. What she _did _notice was a huge, black thing that looked like a ink dropped into water, with floating tendrils and two black eyes was coming towards them._

_Towards _her.

_"Annabeth!" Percy yelled. The black _thing _was coming towards her, so fast she could barely see it move. It was almost on her, and—_

_Something shoved her out of the way. She smashed onto ground. Annabeth lay still on rocky ground. Her adrenaline was coursing through her, her breath coming out in ragged gasps. _Annabeth, get on your feet! _she yelled at herself. She knew they were back in Tartarus, she knew that they weren't in Nothing anymore. But she couldn't bring herself to move. _

_She realised she was curled in a ball. She tried to untie herself, but she couldn't. She felt her dagger clenched in her hand. Something touched her shoulder, and she jumped to her feet. "I was going to say 'are you okay', but I think that's a bit pointless now," Percy said, looking up at her. Annabeth breathed out a sigh of relief. _

_She sunk back to the ground. "Nice to see you too, then."_

_She looked up at him. "What happened to that black thing?"_

_Percy hesitated. "I don't know. I just got you out of the way . . . and then . . . gone."_

_Annabeth studied his face. Unless she was imagining it—which she probably was—there was something missing from it. She got to her feet. "We have to go. Come on."_

_"Annabeth—" Percy began._

Annabeth snapped awake. Someone was shaking her shoulder gently. "Annabeth?"

She rolled onto her back and looked up at Percy's quizzical face. "Since when do you fall asleep like _that_?"

She sat up. "Since when do you wake me up?"

Percy thought on that for a moment. "Since now."

"That is the lamest comeback you have _ever _said."

He shrugged. "You were drooling."

She snapped into awareness. _"WHAT?" _Percy started laughing. He doubled over, gripping his stomach. Annabeth wondered what was so funny. She rapped the back of his thick head with her knuckles. "Hello? Any sense in there?"

_Careful what you say . . . _something hissed. She was _sure _it came from Percy, but . . . it just _wasn't _him. Percy stopped laughing in a split second. Her eyes were frozen wide. What was that? Was that _fear _she was feeling? Annabeth Chase was afraid of _that_? She swallowed. It was nothing, she told herself. _Nothing. _At all.

Percy wasn't looking at her. "I'll . . . um . . ."

_"Perseus Jackson what in the name of Hades was that?" _she snapped.

Percy cringed. "Jeez, why the name? _Why?_"

"What _was _that?" she demanded, jabbing his chest with her finger. He rubbed his neck. "Um . . ."

Annabeth glared at him. "Uh . . . Look, Annabeth, you have to—"

"No, _you _have to tell me what that was," she said so angrily her _mother _would be jealous. "Now tell me why that . . . that _thing _was in your head!"

Percy sighed. "I should have known . . . I should've!" Annabeth looked at him oddly. He seemed drawn into himself, like he was talking to himself, debating on something. But . . . it seemed worse.

_Ah, what a clever one, _the same voice said. Then it all became clear to Annabeth. She _knew _that voice. From Nothing.

Percy's eyes were on her. They were wide—there was _fear _in his eyes.

"Oh my gods . . ." Annabeth started, but a loud, piercing siren went through Odysseus. The loudspeaker came on with a recorded announcement, but Annabeth already knew what was going on.

The lights flickered and died, and she could hear screaming from down the hallway and all the way on the other levels.

They were under attack.

* * *

***GASP!* NEVER! Well, I said chewing out was only just starting, so now we get to exciting stuff! EEEEEE!**

**Okay, guys! and now I'm going to pull a Cat:**

******EXTRA SNAZZY BONUS QUESTION******

**I'm a massive Doctor Who fan, so I decided to ask you people this question:**

**WHAT DO YOU THINK MY NAME IS?**

**CAT, YOU ARE FORBIDDEN TO JOIN IN ON THIS!**

**No seriously - I want to see what you people think of as my name from my writing. This'll be . . . new. Sorry guys, but what my name is isn't coming out. Owl's my name. (No, it actually IS my nickname). So . . . look, I just want to see what you people think. If you think of one that I like . . . (::)(::) Cookies for you!**

**YAY!**

**Okay, see ya, guys!**

**Until the next chapter,**

**Please R&R,**

**-Owl**


	15. Chapter 15

**HELLOHELLOHELLO! I am alive, and I HAVE FINISHED THE CHAPTER!**

**I may have finished it earlier, but I went on a holiday . . . so . . .**

**Well, this is 10,000 words! JUST LIKE I PROMISED! WHOOHOO!**

**I have an idea! REVIEW REPLIES!**

**Cat: You know what, you're absolutely right. *turns to other reviewers* Just humor her . . .**

**toe walker: Yay! Friends! Well, that was a good guess - it's a cool name, too. **

**WaterandWisdom: HERE IS THINE CHAPTER!**

**CRYSTALYN: Well, I guess it is a funny idea. NO! PERCY DOES****_ NOT _****GO EVIL! HE'S, LIKE . . . THE BEST CHARACTER EVER! How can a guy with the fatal flaw of loyalty go evil? I SHALL NEVER DO THAT! **

**I'm not mad at you or anything, just I come from a family where we yell at each other a lot to get our point across, so . . . yeah. **

**traversing: Well, if you ****_know _****my name is Elizabeth then I guess it is . . . well, in actual fact it isn't . . . ONE OF MY TEACHERS' NAMES IS ELIZABETH, THOUGH!**

**Angelwingz324: Well, you get to see now!**

**sunnyday45: um . . . are those meant to be eyes? Well, I just didn't really know how to read that . . . okay, well, here's the newest chapter!**

**The Lazy Bookworm: No it isn't! So . . . here is the next chapter to prove it!**

**Disclaimer: I MEAN, IS IT POSSIBLE TO WRITE ****_FAN_****FICTION WHILE OWNING THE MATERIAL? WELL, THAT'S PROOF THAT I DON'T OWN A THING, BECAUSE IF I DID I'D BE WRITING THE BOOKS! I ONLY OWN MY OCS. AND CAT OWNS ANNABETH'S AWSOME TELEKINETIC STUFF!**

* * *

**_Chapter 15: Attack_**

_"Please get your weapons and evacuate the building. We are under attack. Repeat; we are under attack." _The loudspeaker repeats the message over and over again. Attack? What kind of attack? Why is it . . . why does that _scare _me?

I'd been scared so many times in this god-forsaken place. Why is it unhinging me so much? Tobias shakes my arm. "Tris—come on!" he doesn't look the way he had before, when he had told me about how he didn't fit into the world we'd found. Now he looks as he always has: Dauntless.

I grab my weapons and then take Tobias's hand. We run down the corridor, through the crowd of screaming and crying people. I look for people I recognise, but I see none. The stairway is coming up, maybe five metres away—when someone screams behind us.

Not the scream that are common at the moment. A bloodcurdling, terrifying scream of terror and pain. I whirl around and see the barrel of a gun pressed to someone's head. The figure holding the gun is black and hooded. Tobias drags me to the stairs just as I hear the bang of gunfire. I look up and see Alec standing at the stairs. "Go, go, go!" he yells at us.

We tumble down the stairs with everyone else. Hideous sounds came in front of us, behind us, everywhere. People are snatched from the stairs we run down, and screams echo off the walls. When we reach the ground, Nico is standing there, fighting off the invaders with sword skills I have seen only rivalled by Percy and Annabeth. We pour out of the doors, fighting and running our way through the cloaked creatures.

One swings a sword and cuts across my calf. I stifle a cry of pain and keep running, even though the pain in my leg is unbearable. Tobias notices me lagging behind and immediately sees my leg. I can't bear to look down at it. Without a second's hesitation he swings me up into his arms and keeps running. "Watch my back," he whispers in my ear as he runs.

It seems like the creatures are only interested in Odysseus, because the further we run they leave us alone.

Or so it seemed.

Tobias stumbles, and we sprawl on the ground. I recognise the whistling sound of a blade. I roll out of the way, making my leg burn. The blade hits the ground where I had been only a second before. "Tris!" Tobias yells, but another creature jumps him. He whirls around and they start to fight, leaving me with the armed one.

They advance slowly, holding the blade almost casually. "Legion of Jupiter," it hisses. "Not much godly blood left in you, is there?" they swing the blade again, and I barely miss it. I only did because my leg buckled under me. The creature looms over me, pressing the tip of the sword to my throat. "Sadly, we can't kill _you,_" it says with disappointment. "But they never said anything about the others. Or the Ares kid."

I swallow. "Ares kid?" I ask. Annabeth's advice came back to me now. _If someone's talking and holding a weapon at your throat, keep them talking. _The creature doesn't move. "Ah, so they _haven't _figured it out yet. Shame."

He looks up, and I twist my head to see what he's looking at. The other creature has Tobias in a headlock. "Kill him."

* * *

"Percy, you listen to me _right now. _I couldn't care less if _Gaea _was at our doorstep. I am not moving until you tell me what is going on in your head."

Percy looks around. His eyes are wilder than Annabeth had seen them in a long time. "Annabeth, it was in Nothing. You remember when we broke it apart and there was that _thing _there?"

Annabeth nodded, not daring to speak.

"It didn't get you because I pushed you out of the way. It got _me."_

Annabeth took a step back. "What's important about that?" her voice shook. "I mean, you're still here."

Percy shook his head, then winced and rubbed his temple. "That thing—it calls itself the Wraith. It . . . it invades _minds, _Annabeth. That's why I've blocked mine off, to try and keep it out. It' like an Eidolon but ten million times stronger."

Annabeth went numb all over. "Why did you hide this from me?" she snapped. "Give me _one _reason!"

"I was trying to get rid of it. I thought . . . I thought I was doing the right thing. I thought I was protecting people. But then, when you told me you were hearing voices . . ." His hand shot out and grabbed her wrist—not hard, but it made Annabeth dizzy.

_The black mass crashed into Percy and made him stumble back. Pain exploded from his head. _Hello, sea spawn, _said a voice. Percy ground his teeth as the ground came into his vision. He tried to block his mind off—something he'd started doing since he was possessed by the Eidolons. The voice hissed in annoyance. _Just you wait, sea spawn, _it snapped. _You have no idea how weak you are.

Percy drew his hand back. "What was that?" Annabeth asked. She could hear screams and hisses and sounds of monsters, but they didn't come to their room. "When you were hearing the voices, the things like, 'the problem has been under your nose the whole time' stuff, it was talking about me. I didn't know how, but somehow it's managed to get the monsters here. It's been _communicating _with them. It's my fault they're here, Annabeth."

Annabeth shook her head so wildly her neck ached. This was Percy—_her _Percy. How could this be his fault? Why was it always _him _that got the Wraiths in his head and dealt with it? Why was it always him that had to not fail? Why couldn't they be given peace just _once_?

"No. That _cannot _be right. It can't—"

"Annabeth, it has been trying to smash into my mind so many times and nearly succeeded so many times. That time you were talking to me and I disappeared for a second—that was one attack. And it's trying again now. It also said 'problems are disguised until they rise', right?" Percy took a deep breath. "It's figured out a way to get in. It's figured out a way to get _my _mind out of me and start controlling me. And I don't know _how. _Annabeth, you have to go. If I'm there with you the monsters will come after us."

"No!" Annabeth yelled. "Not again—even you said you'd never lose me again!" she felt tears in her eyes. "You can't do that. Please, Percy, please."

Annabeth could see pain flaring up in Percy's eyes. They weren't wild anymore, they were pleading and desperate.

Just then the door swung open.

* * *

"NO!" I scream, surprised by my sudden explosion. A small flash of lightning lanced across the sky. The creatures seem surprised by me as well. The creature holding Tobias hesitates, and in that moment he lashes out and shakes them off. He pulls out his gun and shoots at the attacker, but they barely stumble back. "Fool!" the creature that has their sword at my throat yells. "Your mortal weapons cannot harm us!"

The creature lands on Tobias, and in a movement I can barely see because of its speed, it takes the gun and fires it at Tobias.

Everything goes silent for me. The only thing I can see is Tobias falling back on the ground, blood soaking his top. I feel myself scream, but I can't hear it. I yell his name, but my ears don't work. I claw myself free of the creature holding me and hobble towards him, feeling tears run down my face. Tobias's face is twisted in pain. He looks over at me, and his mouth forms one word: Tris.

Then the light leaves his eyes and he goes limp. My scream burns my throat raw. I try to get to him, but rough hands grab my arms and yank me away. Something cold wraps around my wrists, but I barely feel the pain. All I can feel is the pain in my chest, as if it's been torn open. I pull against the force holding me back, screaming his name. Everything seems to be in slow motion.

I can see Odysseus burning, I can see monsters, I can see people falling and screaming, but I don't care. Tobias is lying dead on the ground, and I did nothing to stop it. There's something silvery in the distance, and I recognise it as Thalia. Her eyes settle on me, and she starts running.

I see Tobias's lifeless face again, his dull eyes staring straight ahead, blood coating everything around him. Tobias is dead. The pain in my chest spreads to every part of me. How can Tobias be gone? How can he be dead? But the worse thing was that it was completely my fault.

I don't realise that I'm being dragged away. I still can't hear anything. I can only feel pain. I know I'm sobbing, screaming his name over and over, that everything I know is drifting farther away. Even my vision is fading. How? Why Tobias? Why not me?

I am yanked farther away and the world goes black.

* * *

Annabeth hadn't expected the monsters to look so . . . human. She grabbed her dagger and held it in front of her. She could still feel tears in her eyes. The monsters were cloaked, but Annabeth could see the slight difference in them from normal people. The lead monster took a few steps forward. Annabeth felt Percy go as tight as a bowstring.

"What do you want?" Annabeth said, trying to sound braver than she felt. She still felt stupid. She _knew _what they wanted. She just wouldn't let them have it. _Ever_.

"It does not take a fool to get into danger," the monster said with a strangely hollow voice. "But it may take a genius to get out of it."

"They're quoting the Wraith," Percy whispered to her. "That's his code phrase. It means come with us or die."

Annabeth swallowed. "I'm guessing they're serious about the dying part."

Annabeth guessed that, had Percy not had some possessive spirit thingy trying to take over his mind at that precise moment he would have cracked a smile, or even started laughing. That was one of the things that drove the monsters they fought nuts. Annabeth felt her spirits lift as she remembered Percy laughing his butt off while facing some _dracaenae _when they'd said 'shut up' with their hissing voices. Maybe she would've laughed then, at the moment, one hundred years into the future where they were both dead and yet still alive facing off a party of monsters.

But she didn't.

And that was how the world fell apart.

. . .

Annabeth hadn't doubted that the monsters could move fast. _How _fast she didn't realize. But the answer was that they could move _really _fast. She thought that her time in Tartarus had given her an edge—that she could beat almost anyone that hadn't been fighting for their lives every day of every minute of every _second _in the one place that held the worst of the godly world. For a month. Not to mention they'd been _dead. _

But these monsters seemed to have trained for this very moment. They all used different weapons—some used two swords, some swords modelled on Riptide (that freaked Annabeth out), daggers modelled on hers (that made her freaking angry), _gladius, _spears—everything. Annabeth barely kept track of what she was doing, just _keep those things away. _

Something grabbed her arm and knocked her off balance. Something else grabbed her other arm and pushed down on her back, shoving her to her knees. The cold edge of a blade pressed against her throat.

_"No," _said a voice. Annabeth knew Percy's voice when he was in pain. When he was angry. She was one of the few people that had seen him both at the same time. She was seeing that now.

He was holding Riptide out in front of him, and Annabeth could see him trembling. His eyes were pained—a different pain than she'd ever seen. Unless she was imagining it, the irises of his eyes were darker . . . the edges were almost black. Two creatures pressed the tips of their swords to his chest. Percy swallowed. Annabeth couldn't bear to look at him. She looked down.

"The Wraith said to do what he needed," a creature said. "And we are doing it."

The edge of the sword pressed against Annabeth's throat harder. The temperature dropped, and suddenly she felt nothing beneath her.

"_ANNABETH!" _she heard Percy scream. Then it was all black.

* * *

Percy stood where he had. He hadn't moved, but Annabeth was gone. The room was empty. There were no creatures, there was no Annabeth, no monsters, just . . . nothing.

The Wraith laughed in his head. _Oh, what fun this is._

Percy whirled around and took off running. There were no shadows in the room—so they couldn't have shadow-travelled. They must have teleported somewhere or something, and something told him that they couldn't have gone far.

The pain in his head caused black spots to dance across his vision. He swallowed and kept running. He grabbed the rail of the stairs and swung himself over it, falling three levels onto the ground. He rolled to keep his legs from breaking and then sprinted down the hall.

The Wraith growled in his head. Percy figured he must have got that information from it somehow. He didn't stop to think about it, though. He smashed through the doors of Odysseus and saw the creatures retreating. He ran after them, dodging Nico as he yelled out to him.

Percy thought he could see the faintest shape of curly golden hair. He saw Thalia not far from him, fighting off a group of monsters. He looked ahead to the dark horizon and saw a bubbly mass of blackness. The monsters.

He was definitely seeing her hair now. He could reach her. He could . . . maybe he could even beat the Wraith.

_Don't get ahead of yourself, Jackson. Gods have fallen to me._

Percy didn't reply like he usually did—to tell him to shut up. He didn't care. He just had to get Annabeth. He had to get her out of the hands of those creatures. He was almost on them—twenty metres . . . ten metres—

A pain that he had never felt exploded in his head. It was so strong it caused him to fall backwards. It felt like the inside of his head was being dropped into lava—and he knew lava. Lava wasn't that painful. He ground his teeth together and bit back a scream. Percy Jackson—screaming in pain? No. That was _not _him. But that's how painful it was. He was distantly aware that Annabeth was being taken away, that he had to go after her, but he couldn't move from the pain.

And then the laugh. The laugh that was so cold and bitter and evil that he shuddered, causing pain to shoot through him. _Ah, you aren't as strong as I thought, _the Wraith taunted.

Then, the pain was gone. Completely gone. Percy froze, then jumped to his feet and took off running. The creatures were facing him. He saw Annabeth's hair between them. Percy swore they were smiling. He took a step towards them, Riptide raised—

And they were gone. They'd teleported away, and they'd taken Annabeth with them. Except this time, he knew they were far, far away.

One moment he was standing, the next he was on his knees. The weight of losing crushed the air out of him. He felt so . . . so broken. Had he actually lost? Had he actually let them take Annabeth? Had he failed to save her? Could she be dead now? Would he ever see her again?

And that was when the Wraith laughed. That was when Percy's long, painful battle with the Wraith finally came to an end.

* * *

The Wraith grinned. At last he'd got rid of Jackson. He'd spent longer than he anticipated fighting the boy. He remembered fondly that time he'd taken on Kronos and defeated him within a moment. Kronos had been too proud for him, though. Too bulky. Too much anger that was too easily let out.

He'd taken on countless gods and goddesses trapped within Tartarus, he'd gotten out of the place a few times, living through hosts that he'd snatched.

But Jackson . . . he'd been strange. He had had to fight him, constantly putting pressure on him. He remembered the time Annabeth had been talking to the boy—that had been a perfect moment. He'd put all his strength into breaking down the strength in Jackson's mind. But even that had failed.

What was it that had kept Jackson so strong? Why had he spent weeks fighting the boy? The boy was barely seventeen—how could he have been stronger than gods that had existed for countless millennia?

The Wraith stretched out his new fingers. Jackson's ancient sword was still firmly in his grasp. Maybe he'd planned on killing himself—the Wraith wasn't sure. Either way, he hadn't gotten the chance, because Jackson was no longer the one in control. He, the Wraith, had prevailed once again. He'd had great fun playing around with the girl—Annabeth. And then that legion, the child of Jupiter. Ah, such fun he could have had. But Jackson had stopped him. He'd been told by so many he was too loyal. In the end, he'd been too loyal, and he'd failed.

He'd broken.

And that's why the Wraith had one. He was loyal to no one but himself. It was impossible for him to have a fatal flaw. Because he didn't exist, technically. Ah, the beauty of possessing.

"Percy?" someone asked—that boy, the son of Hades, a Watcher—Nico. "Percy, are you okay?"

The Wraith rose to his feet, keeping his back to them. "Jackson is _not _all right," he said. "Because this isn't Jackson talking at all."

He recognised his own voice. Even through hosts his voice was always the same. He turned around slowly, taking in the surprised and horrified expressions of the humans before him. He smiled coldly. "Jackson is defeated," he said. "You can't put your faith in him. Possibly the strongest demigod that ever lived. And now"—he capped Jackson's sword and placed it into his pocket—"he's gone. He is, his morals, his loyalties, everything. Instead you have me."

Nico's dark eyes looked at him. "Wraith," he spat, then muttered a string of curses. The Wraith smiled. "Ah, is you know me, di Angelo. No doubt from when you were studied Tartarus, after Jackson and the girl were pulled out of their time."

Di Angelo didn't move. "Of Angels," the Wraith mused. "Angels of death, then? Well, then _Nico, _do inform me when you'll be needing an attack, because Jackson has, ah, how shall I put it . . . ? Taken a leave of absence. _Permanently."_

"No. Percy was too strong for that!" Nico snapped. The Wraith smiled wider, looking at the man with cold, nearly-black eyes. "Oh, Jackson was strong. Gods and goddesses—they present no challenge. I had some fun with Kronos once. But they fall at my mere touch. They're weak. But Jackson—I've been fighting him since Tartarus, since he picked me up protecting the girl."

Di Angelo took a step back, as did everyone. It looked like a giant wave, folding back on itself as they moved away. The Wraith gave a bitter laugh. "Ah, you always were cowards. Now I'm going to leave. Maybe the war can be finally won, no?"

"This isn't your war to fight in!" the Hunter screamed at him, brandishing her spear and grizzly shield. The Wraith wasn't moved. "I remember Medusa," he mused. "Too bitter for my taste. Good day—oh, pardon me, I should say things as they are: mourn your dead."

And then he turned and vanished.

* * *

Pain is a strange concept to grasp.

Is pain lying with my face pressing onto cold concrete with blood that had gone cold around me? Is pain hearing a drip that causes your head to ache? Or is pain knowing that you have lost someone. That you will never, ever, _ever _get them back. Never get to say goodbye, and that your life and the bitter existence of the world is going on. Why? Because it isn't the world's loss. The world doesn't care. Your pain can only be yours. That is pain.

That is what I'm feeling now. Lying in the cold cell. I became conscious a few minutes ago, but the pain was too much for me to become aware of much more than the drip. The emptiness in me is suffocating. Like ice growing from inside my chest and slowly growing outwards.

I can see my arms spread out in front of my face, on the cold ground. They're pale. I remember seeing one of my small hands in Tobias's. I wince as the pain in my chest tightens. I can't think about him. I just have to . . . forget.

I'll never forgive the creatures who did it. And I will never forget that it happened. But I will try and go on without acknowledging him. Because maybe the guilt I feel for doing that will help me block out the pain. The pain I will never be able to shake.

The heavy door grinds open and something is chucked into the room. I can see the movement from my heavy eyes. I don't move, though. There's the sound of heavy breathing. There's a person in here.

"Tris?" they ask. Annabeth. "Tris—oh my gods, are you okay?"

_No, I am _not_ okay and I never will be! Go away!_ I want to scream, but I can't make myself. I can't bring myself to move. I feel silent tears run down my face. No one had ever told me that losing people would be this hard. My parents, I'd lost them. But I had had Tobias to help me. Now he was gone. What was I going to do now?

"Tris, please, what's wrong?" Annabeth asks. She puts a hand on my shoulder, and attempts to get me to sit up. "No," I croak. Even with my hoarse voice, there is still a hot anger in my voice that causes her to let go. Maybe I should apologise, but I don't. I don't say a word. I'm in pain. My pain. Mine alone. Because no one else will ever understand what I am feeling.

I swallow. I can still see the image playing through my head. The bullet hitting him, the arc of blood as he fell back. I can still see the look on his face as he died. The way he tried to say my name. I close my eyes slowly, holding back a sob. My chest shakes as I hold it in. I expect Annabeth to be watching me, but as I open my eyes I see that she isn't. She's hugging her knees with her face pressed against them. I wonder why she's here, for the first time. Percy would never have . . .

I see Tobias falling to the ground again and quickly try to think about something else—_anything _else. But I can't think of anything. I hear dripping again, and I realise that there was no drip in the cell. It is the sound of my tears falling.

. . .

I am unaware of how long I lie there. Of how long Annabeth sits against the wall, completely motionless. After a while my tears stop falling. There's no more to shed. I sit up and move against the wall. Annabeth doesn't move. I look up at the ceiling. The only light in the cell comes through the door. Outside I can hear people walking to and fro. I can hear the click of guns, I can smell cigarettes.

But I can only feel cold. Icy fathomless cold. My fingers go numb after maybe ten minutes sitting still. I remember sitting on the windowsill in Candor that night, telling myself that I had done bad things; that I couldn't take them back. That they were part of who I am. But this time I had someone do bad things to me. They took Tobias away from me and in that ripped me in two. Part of me followed him, wherever it was that he'd gone. A part of me that I would never see again.

When they ripped me apart . . . it hurt.

* * *

Annabeth sat still for a long time. She'd been able to see Percy as he came after her. She'd see him slam back onto the ground, gripping his head. She'd seen Percy in pain. She thought she'd never have to see that pain again, back in the room in Odysseus. But she'd been wrong.

People had been hurting the people she loved. And there was nothing she could do to help them.

Annabeth had thought that the monsters had come after Percy. How could she have been so stupid?! Percy had told her that the Wraith had figured out a way to beat him. Annabeth thought that that meant he was coming after Percy. But it hadn't been that. The Wraith was too cunning for that. He'd organised to have Annabeth kidnapped. To stall Percy at that moment and watch the monsters leave with her.

Annabeth knew that Percy hated failing. More than that he hated failing his friends. The Wraith knew that. So he made Percy fail. And that had broken Percy. The Wraith was cruel. It was clever. It knew how to get what it wanted in the end. Annabeth would never forgive it for that. She would never forgive it. And she would never forget.

She heard Tris moving. Annabeth remembered how Tris had spoken to her. The voice that was so . . . Annabeth didn't wonder what could have made her like that. Tris was alone. That one fact was enough to make Annabeth freeze. If they had taken Tris, then someone would have tried to stop them. And that someone didn't have a possessive spirit in their head. They were fine to be killed.

Tobias was dead.

Annabeth mourned in silence. She would have thought that maybe it wouldn't be this hard. But it was. It _always _was. It was always hard, always painful. She sat with her face on her knees, thinking of anything but what happened to Percy. She could hardly imagine—

No, she told herself, don't think about it.

Pain is a strange concept to grasp.

She placed a hand on the ground, feeling the cold concrete beneath her palm. They'd disarmed her when she'd been shoved in here. . . . Or had they?

She reached around to her back pocket. They'd taken the small knife she had in there out, but had they taken everything out of it? She reached in and found the hidden pocket in the denim of her jeans. Inside was a small pocket knife. One she'd got from Dauntless. She didn't smile like the way she would have if she had found a way to hope of escape. Because if she were to escape, what then? What would she do then? What if she came across the Wraith in Percy's body? What would she do then?

The door gave a long creak as someone pushed it open. Annabeth's hand shot out of her pocket and hugged her legs to her chest tightly. Her breathing caught as she recognized the sound of the footsteps. She always knew his footsteps. That's how she surprised him in Capture the Flag.

_"So this is Annabeth Chase and Beatrice Prior,"_ the Wraith said. It was easy to tell the voices apart. The Wraith's echoed like it was in a well, with a sharp undertone. It was always menacing. Not like Percy's voice. Not at all. Annabeth looked up and stared the Wraith in the eye. _Don't look at the face, _she told herself. The face was Percy's—the eyes weren't. "What's it to you?" she snapped.

The Wraith returned her glare levelly. "_I figured that Jackson deserved the common courtesy of a goodbye," _it said. Annabeth felt the colour drain from her face. "What do you mean?"

Tris shot to her feet behind the Wraith. "So _he _gets a goodbye but Tobias didn't? He's _dead _and he didn't even manage to say one word of goodbye!"

The Wraith twisted Percy's face into a dark smile. It made tears prick at the back of Annabeth's eyes. That wasn't right. She and Percy had figured out that even the cruellest gods would say they deserved each other. And what now? He's _taken _from her. In the cruellest way. That his mind wasn't there but his body was. That was beyond cruel.

_"Do not rush to conclusions," _the Wraith said to Tris. It turned back to Annabeth. "_Do say something for Jackson."_

"What do you mean, 'goodbye'?"

_"Jackson could keep me out, but even that has drawbacks," _it said. "_Whereas I? I have the power that Jackson did not—will never have. I have the power to destroy Jackson's mind."_

* * *

The Wraith watched as tears began to run down Annabeth's face silently, even though it was obvious she didn't want them to be there. Tris was fuming behind him. Oh, if only she knew what was really going on. True, he was a cunning thing, but even he was part of the larger picture. A larger picture that involved all legions. All the blood of the gods.

Annabeth looked away from him. "I hope there's an ocean where he's going," she muttered. The Wraith raised an eyebrow at her, and then turned to leave. "Oh," he said. "You'll probably be getting tortured or something tomorrow, so do get along beforehand."

He walked out of the cell and down the hall, as fast as Jackson's legs could carry him. Of course, they were _his _legs now, but it would take a moment or two to adjust.

The so-called 'enemy' was actually named Gaos. Remnants of Gaea and Kronos. The Gaos base was actually a jail. In the floors above were multiple cells containing legions from across the border.

Well, _nearly _all of them were legions. "Master Wraith," someone said. Wraith turned around to face the person who had spoken. "Yes?" he asked.

"We have your quarters prepared," the monster replied. Wraith rolled his shoulder. "Lead the way."

The monsters. Ah, the _creatures _as Jackson had referred to them. The monsters he had grown up facing had evolved. Evolved into humanoid things capable of proper thought, speech, skills—even to lead. They had personalities now. Beneath their hoods were the only traces of their pasts.

The monster led him to a lift. In the lift he pressed the button with a 7 on it. The Wraith leaned back against the wall of the elevator, the habit Jackson had. He rolled Riptide beneath his fingers. The sword was his now—so was the skill that Jackson had wielded it with.

The elevator stopped and the doors slid open. The corridor it opened onto was grey. No windows, fluorescent lights, steel and chrome, rubber floors. Along the corridor were doors like those on cells. 7A1 . . . 7A2 . . . 7A3 . . . Wraith stopped counting.

"This is the level where we keep the demigods, yes?" he asked his monster guide. A shuffle of its hood gave the affirmative. "Yes. We have twenty-six at the moment."

_Twenty-six. _The Wraith thought. "They are all . . . working?" he asked. The monster's hood rustled again. "Yes. All properly working, Master Wraith."

At the end of the corridor was a wooden door. The only one on the whole level. "This was prepared for you, Master Wraith. Do enjoy, Master Wraith."

The Wraith walked past him and wrapped his hand around the handle. "Joy is too rare to be an emotion," he whispered.

But it wasn't he that had said it.

* * *

I walk to the wall. I walk back to the other wall. _One, two, one, two, _my rapid footsteps echo around the cell. Annabeth hasn't moved since the _thing _that now inhabits Percy's body came in here. For a moment I feel pity for her; Tobias was dead, yes, but I didn't have to see someone else waltz around in his body with his face.

But then that pity goes up in flames. Tobias was dead. He was gone—he had been _taken _from me. _No one _knows what I'm feeling but me. No one has it as badly as I do. The pain in my chest is a constant reminder of how utterly alone I am. But that pain is sparking anger. _Why _do I have to be alone? _What _have I done? _Why me? _

And then that anger melts into an utter breakdown. And then that breakdown creeps back into pain, and that pain into anger, and that anger into another breakdown. I've never felt anything like this. Not even losing my parents.

Pacing is the only way I can try and fight my way through. _One, two, three, four, five, six, seven . . . _how long will I be in here? _Tap, tap, tap, tap . . . _what are they going to do to me? _Thump, thump, thump, thump . . ._

_They plan on torturing you in the morning, so do get along beforehand, _the not-Percy had said. Torture. Is torture what I'm feeling now? This can't be torture. This is worse than torture. _Nothing _is this level of pain.

"What would you do," someone says, interrupting my pacing. "If someone told you to jump off a cliff?"

It's Annabeth. Her eyes are staring blankly ahead, her arms still wrapped around her knees. I look at the ground. "I would fight them. Maybe kill them. Push _them _over the cliff."

"What of it was Tobias, telling you to jump?" she asks distantly.

I stop dead in my tracks. A million thoughts go through my head. _How dare she talk about Tobias like that. What's she playing at? Ouch. Why does she cause me pain? How can she play with my pain so easily? Why do I have to be alone?_

I let out a breath I didn't realise I'd been holding. "I guess I'd have to jump."

Annabeth sounds more pained and distant than I could ever have imagined. "When Percy went missing, I had a dream once that still haunts me to this day. I was standing on the edge of a cliff, and I couldn't see what was on the other side of it, or below it. Percy was standing next to me, except . . . he looked different. He looked like he was in pain. He said, 'You have to jump. You'll find me on the other side.' Except that then he said something else. 'Because the other side is death. And that's the only roughly accurate description of where I am.'"

I don't know what to feel. It's both terrifying and sad. But then she shocks me even more.

"And then I realised, he hadn't said a word. I was the one who had told him to jump." A tear ran down Annabeth's face. "And he jumped."

. . .

Breathing. It's a strange thing. You breathe in, your chest expands. You breathe out, it shrinks down again. The lungs expand, they compress. When you breathe too much, the air burns your throat. You don't breath enough, your lungs burn from lack of air. And then if you stop breathing . . . then slowly everything stops.

It's scary how many times you can want everything to stop.

It's become darker in the cell, I can't even see Annabeth anymore, let alone hear her. I doubt she's moved from where she'd been before. Maybe the experience with the not-Percy-but-Percy scarred her. I wonder if she'll ever heal from it. Some scars never fade.

"Tris?" a voice says. I freeze. It's not Annabeth's. It's not anyone I would ever expect to hear. Not again.

It's Tobias's voice.

Then I see him, sitting against the opposite wall. One leg bent, one stretched out straight. He looks at ease. Just for the blood spilling down from the gunshot wound on the left of his chest. "Hey, Tris."

"T-Tobias?" I stammer. I'm beginning to tremble. "No. No, that's not possible."

His mouth twitches to the barest hint of a smile. "I'm dreaming," I say, rubbing my eyes. "This is a dream."

His expression turns sombre. "What if the world you think is reality is a dream? Which one do you want to be a dream? What's the difference between reality and dreaming? What if they're the same thing?"

"What if this is a dream and I don't care? What if this is a bitter reality and I hate it? What if I decide to kill myself to get out of the confusion of it all?"

"I never said that."

"But you did!" I scream, jumping to my feet. "Or maybe that's irrelevant, and the answer is that you are _dead _and that's the end of it! Maybe the answer is that I watched you get shot, and that was the last thing I will ever see you do! Maybe the answer is that I am in a cell, with a broken friend and a dead boyfriend that is telling me about dream and reality and saying they never said that!"

Tobias looks up, unamused. "Maybe you should make that two broken people. I'm not sure whether you're all there or not."

* * *

Annabeth squeezed her eyes shut. _Don't think about it, _the last rational part of her brain said. The fact that the Wraith had killed Percy and then _used _Percy's body—was still using—was enough to make her feel sick, and hollow, and everything else under the sun. She was angry, tired, sad, alone . . . anything but happy.

She couldn't get over how she'd taken joy for granted.

_What would I do if I told Percy to jump off a cliff and he did it_? She thought absently, after telling Tris about her nightmare. She balled her fists. _I'd jump after him. _

_Drip . . . drip . . . drip . . . _the sound echoed through the cell. Annabeth found herself focusing on the sound. The sound of falling water in small volumes . . . water.

Annabeth dug her nails into her palm. _Don't think about it! _she told herself. _If you think about it, then you'll . . . miss him. _

Then she remembered something—maybe something she'd read or watched or heard, but that phrase came back to her: _the universe doesn't make bargains._

No. It doesn't. She'd died in action—and _continued _to be a hero—she'd saved Olympus, she'd found the Athena Pathenos . . . and she didn't even get to stay with Percy. She didn't even get to have the one thing she ever would have asked for. And if that wasn't enough, she had to watch some . . . somet_hing _walk around in his body, with his face and his habits and his skills . . . everything except his voice and his eyes.

Green eyes. Black eyes. Eyes like a doll. Hollow eyes. _Merciless _eyes. Eyes that, even if you committed cold-blooded murder, they wouldn't change. Eyes that would be smiling as someone fell dead at the person's feet.

Those eyes on Percy's face.

Nausea swelled up in Annabeth's gut. She swallowed hard, trying to think of something else. _Anything _else. She thought of Camp. Of the new kids as they were being taught, of the way Chiron started the Capture-the-Flag games, of the way she ended up having to protect her base from P—

No. She didn't do that.

"You're a liar!" Tris screamed suddenly. Annabeth jumped.

Tris was panting, and pointing into space. "Where is he? Tobias Eaton where the hell have you gone?! You annoy me, taunt me, and then you freaking _disappear!" _

"Tris, no one's here," Annabeth murmured. "Not Tobias, not Percy, not Nico not Thalia not anyone we know or rely on in any way. No one's here, no one's coming, and there's no one left. The universe doesn't make bargains."

Tris slammed back against the wall. "I don't need a reality check."

"That wasn't one," Annabeth muttered. "I can give you one, but it's not that pleasant."

"I told you," Tris fumed. "I don't _need _a reality check."

Annabeth got to her feet. "Well then, time to override reality."

Tris was suddenly alert. "Override reality?"

"Sure. I've done it before in Nothing, Override reality. Overload the reality _in _the reality and then reality crumbles, leaving a moment or two of unreality in which we can escape."

Tris shook her head. "I'm lost."

"That's a fancy ridiculous way of saying I'm going to unlock the door, hack into the program to unlock the doors I want—which means the room where our weapons are being kept, then put the place into lockdown and run for it before they can get us."

Tris scratched her head. "You can do that?"

"Yeah. I sewed in a fake pocket on my jeans," Annabeth reached into her pocket, looking for the slim seam that opened into an inside pocket. Inside was a tiny knife—basically a letter opener, but it was sharp, long, and thin.

It was a last-resort for when the door was opened. "Okay, you can fight like a dog if it means freedom, right?"

"Yeah," Tris said. "T— I was taught."

Annabeth didn't ask any more. She squeezed her eyes shut and felt the bolts. She could do this. If she was actually telekinetic, then she could get the bolts to slide shut. And still be ready to fight off the monsters.

It was like Tartarus all over again. Except this time it was her and Tris.

And Percy was her enemy.

* * *

Red and blue. Red and blue. The Wraith groaned. What now?

"Master Wraith! Master Wraith!" the monsters were yelling on the other side of the door. The Wraith got to his feet and threw open the door. "_What_?"

"The prisoners! The demigod and the legion—they've escaped the cell! The demigod hacked into the mainframe—we're going into lockdown."

The Wraith needed no more explaining. He started running down the corridor. The lift took too long. He grabbed the banister of the stairs and vaulted over the rail, plummeting to the ground floor. His feet slammed against the ground, but then he started running again. Cloaked monsters were running around, trying to keep the cell doors from opening.

For a moment, with horror, the Wraith realised he was smiling. And it wasn't his smile. It was a completely foreign smile to him, a smug smile. It was Jackson's smile. A smile he was giving because his girlfriend and the legion were escaping.

_No! _The Wraith thought, and wiped the smile from his face. How could Jackson still exist? The Wraith would have to completely destroy him, like he'd promised.

A cold smile grew on his face. _That _was his smile.

The monsters parted before him as he sprinted towards the exit. The only exit in the whole complex. He skidded to a halt. Behind him were the doors. In front of him were two blonde girls.

He couldn't tell which one was more shocked. The demigod looked scared out of her wits, and the legion looked feral. The demigod—Annabeth—swallowed. A hard look came into her eyes as she walked forward, holding her dagger in a bloody hand.

"You have some sick guts coming out here with Percy's face, expecting me to run away," she snarled. "Instead I'm going to beat you out of Percy. Even if he ends up a mindless vegetable—at least there won't be _you _in there!"

She threw a smaller knife at him. The Wraith sidestepped easily, watching it fly past him. He looked up just in time to see Annabeth coming at him, her dagger in hand. He tore Riptide from his pocket and caught her blade.

_When the opponent has a longer blade, get in close, _the Wraith dug that from Jackson's memories—back when he fought Kronos. Annabeth forced her way against his blade. "I'll give you a chance to get out of him _right now," _she said through gritted teeth. "Before I make you."

"Nice try," he said. "But I'm quite comfortable in here."

He could hear the monsters coming towards them. "Tris—hold them off!" Annabeth yelled. She turned back to the Wraith. "Did Percy ever let you see what made me different?" she whispered. "Because where others may be unable to get you out of his head . . ." a hard pressure began to build on the Wraith's mind. Like a huge, painful migraine. "I can."

The Wraith pushed her away and swung the sword, but she was right there again. The pressure continued to build in his head, clouding his thoughts. But the Wraith had Jackson's skill. Most of that was muscle-memory.

Jackson was perhaps the greatest fighter the Wraith had inhabited. But Annabeth was just as great. The blows began to get so fast he couldn't tell what he was doing, it was more like a sixth sense that his arm knew where the blade was coming at him. _Swipe, parry, duck, roll . . ._ it was all so natural.

_Bang! _his back slammed into the wall, and his sword fell from his hand. Annabeth's knife was at his throat. "There's a distinct difference between you and Percy," Annabeth said, deadly calm. "Percy's _mind _controls his skills. You just have his arm. You don't _think _about it. That's why you're not Percy."

"Annabeth! The monsters!" Tris yelled. Annabeth glanced back, and in that moment the Wraith pushed her over. She hit the ground on her back, and her dagger clattered with her hand. The Wraith pulled his sword from his pocket. Its tip hovered over her throat. "Last words?"

Annabeth spat on the blade. "There."

The Wraith's sword lifted, and he brought it down—

His arm froze. The Wraith looked at it. How? How could it have stopped there? He tried to force it down—_he _was the one in control of the arm, he told himself. He could _do _this.

The pressure on his mind was almost unbearable. Another pain grew in the back of his head—a splitting headache. His concentration shattered, then.

_No. _The voice was faint, strained, but he knew it. Weeks of being spoken to by that voice. _Jackson's _voice.

He backed away, and the monsters came forward. "Put them in the most secure cell you can find. Both in separate cells. Do _not _let either of them socialise in any way," he ordered. The monsters restrained, bound and gagged both of them. Annabeth's eyes were on him. He returned her gaze levelly. "Most messes can be cleaned up," he told her. "This one won't be happening again."

He turned and walked back to his quarters.

. . .

No one _is allowed to hurt Annabeth, _Jackson fumed. _No one._

"Be quiet," the Wraith snapped. "You lost. I won. This is _my _body now."

_No it isn't. _I _grew up with it. _I _gave it the skill. You're just some . . . cheating moron. _

The Wraith threw the pocket knife into the wall. "Shut up! You're meant to be dead!"

_Well it took you long enough, _Jackson said scathingly. _I would have thought the death-on-impact with Tartarus would have made you realise, but I guess that was too much to hope for. _

"I am the Wraith! Defeater of gods, titans, and created by Chaos. No one can survive my wrath."

_You really need a reality check, _he said. _Because, as it looks, I _think _that there are two people in _my _body. There's an entering fee, you know!_

"And what would that be? I am not some immature Eidolon. _I _am the Wraith. I have controlled nearly every god as I chose. Theseus would not have existed without me. Nor would Hercules have lost his family from Hera. _I _could control the gods. I kept their minds locked away until I had had my fun. Why are _you—_some petty mortal hero—still here?"

_Petty mortal hero? What the heck were you doing in my dad's head? You possessed Hera to make her kill Heracles's family? _Jackson paused in disbelief. _You are a nasty piece of work._

"_You're_ a piece of work," the Wraith muttered, yanking the knife from the wall. For a moment his mind flashed to what could happen if Jackson became a problem in his plan. Immediately he stopped, realising what he'd just done.

_Oh—my—gods . . . _Jackson could hardly talk. His horror was clouding the Wraith's mind. _You're insane!_

"I am securing the future."

_Dude, the monsters are monsters. If they become, like, _tame _and not-killing-demigods, then I have no problem with them—I have a pet hellhound, for Olympus's sake!—but that? You're off your rocker. _

"Do you know how the War started?" the Wraith asked, sitting down on the bed. "Because I have a feeling you don't."

_No I don't. I'm not one for info. Just facts—this is the 'bad guy you have to kill', he can do this that and yeah, there's a ninety-nine per cent chance you'll die, and if you fail the world will end. Those things._

"The world has long ended. This is the aftermath. In this case, Jackson, the bad guy you have to kill is me. And it is impossible to do that."

Jackson grumbled in his head. _If I ever get you out of this body, you will be sorry you ever _thought _about entering it. _

"We both know you couldn't beat my strength. My skill, maybe—that depends on the body—but the strength you could never hope for."

_Oh yeah? What skill? Enlighten me. _

The Wraith smiled. "With pleasure."

He lifted his palm up, and watched as black, inky vapours gathered into a black orb. He curled his fingers around it, feeling the heat in his fingers. "You know what this can do?" he asked Jackson. "This can take the spark of life right out of something alive. It takes their life—it's a vacuum, basically. Then, once the life is taken, it collapses in on itself. The perfect disposal unit. Try and rival that strength, Jackson. _Try._"

_This. _A splitting headache ripped through his head. The sphere of black evaporated in his head as he pressed his palms against his temples. "Argh. Jackson—stop it!"

_Aw, little cheating moron has a headache, _Jackson spat. _How do you think _I _feel, then? How do you think when _you _were fighting me? _The pain became more intense in waves with every word. _How do you think that felt? How—much—pain—I—felt—then?_

The Wraith clenched his jaw. "You're a vile being, Jackson."

_'Vile' is new. 'Stupid'? Yes. 'Idiotic'? Yes. But _vile_?_ _No, can't say I've had that yet._

The Wraith didn't expect him to stop. The pain grew again, and he slid down the wall to the door.

"You can't win, Jackson!" he shouted sounding hysterical. Suddenly the pan vanished. "Goodbye," he spat.

Destroying a mind was a complex thing. But the Wraith did it. He isolated Jackson's mind, feeling how weak it had become from the attack he'd just given him. And in one moment, he crushed it, and it disappeared.

Percy Jackson was no more.

* * *

Pain. Screams. Echoes.

I curl up in the corner of my new cell. Whitewashed walls and blinding lights, with a steel door. The Wraith hadn't been bluffing when he said torture. They had brans that they pressed onto skin—words, like _Answer the Darkness _and _Midnight Sun of Malice. _

Blood. I'd bled in that room, tied to that bed. I'd screamed, cursed, experienced pain.

I run my fingers over the burn on my arm. _Dream of Pain _is burnt onto the skin. I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to keep away the tears.

"I told you it was confusing."

My eyes shoot open, and I'm looking at Tobias, sitting against the opposite wall, his face expressionless. "Oh yeah?" I sneer. "Come to gloat in my pain, have you?"

"I'm the one who's dead," he says. "And to be honest, you can't count on the Wraith not killing Annabeth again. He managed to get rid of Percy."

That should shock me—the fact that Percy is now dead—but it doesn't. It just . . . I'm numb. I'm too worn-out from pain that I just can't feel anything more. I look at him blankly. "We all have to die someday."

He puts his elbow on his bent knee. "Do you miss me?"

"Oh, so you're done with the confusing and the taunting and now you're going into the pity mode, are you?" I yell. "I just get tortured, branded, and _now _you try make me depressed? Is that it? Well, Tobias, I can tell you that yes, I miss you, but I can't think about that right now! If I am getting _tortured, _then my survival depends on staying strong, not moping around, muttering 'why is he dead?'!"

If I hadn't been in so much pain, I would have got to my feet and started yelling at him, but the outburst has just taken out my strength. Tobias watches me with his dark eyes. "It doesn't hurt, you know—dying," he says. "Not overly, anyway."

"Then what _is _it like?" I ask quietly, looking at the red-stained ground.

"Well, at first it hurts," he says idly, waving his hand absently. "And then it just . . . goes. I mean, you know that you're gone, and it's nice, and there's just . . . nothing. The strange thing is, you know that, and you don't care. Because you're just . . . gone."

"Then why are you here?"

"I never said I was." He gets to his feet, pulling a pocket knife from inside his jeans. "How do you know this isn't a hallucination? I've been killed, shot by that monster—urgh—and now I'm dead. I'm probably a figment of your sub-conscious."

He tosses me the knife, and it lands at my feet. "I found it for you—it's the one you got Eric with."

I reach down and close my fingers around it. When I look up, he's gone.

The knife is still in my hand.

* * *

Annabeth had fought until her legs gave out. There was such thing as torture, there was such thing as pain, there was such thing as complete and utter sadistic monsters that took pleasure in being so sadistic . . . and then there was this.

First they had hooked her up to a machine that sent some sort of signal to her brain that resulted in complete and utter pain. _Then _they had got some telepathic monsters to have a go at her. She was tired, she was in pain, she was barely able to move . . .

And then she fell.

She would have thought that after all that, they would have thrown her back in her cell. But they hadn't. They'd then dragged her down level 7, letting her look into the cells. They were all exactly the same—a limp person lying on a bed.

Annabeth didn't recognise any of them . . . except when they got to the last few.

The first one she recognised was Alec. If she had enough energy she would have thrown up, but she didn't. She had barely enough energy to stay conscious.

But the biggest shock was the last cell. Never in her life would she have expected what she saw.

It was Leo.

* * *

Tobias tried to wake up, but it felt like his eyelids were sewn shut. He tried to move, but he just felt . . . spaced out. He couldn't move. He focused on moving his fingers—maybe just a twitch—but he couldn't.

But then he did. He felt his fingers stretch, but he wasn't doing it. He tried to stop—this wasn't him doing it, so his fingers shouldn't be doing it!

With horror, he realised his eyes were opening—_were _open. He was looking up at a white ceiling. His eyes moved to the right, where he could see his hands shackled to the sides of some sort of bed. Tobias tried to remember what had happened . . .

It had been night. He was fighting . . . Tris. Tris was being dragged away as she fought. He fought his way to her. _Nothing _was going to stand in his way.

And then . . . he'd fought them . . . what next though? He remembered pain . . . near his chest, splintering his ribs . . . a bullet. He'd been shot.

_Shot. _He was dead . . .

_"Tris . . ." he murmured, his hand reaching out to her crying face. He was fading away . . . he saw hands grab her arms and shoulders, yanking her away. He saw her mouth open in a scream, her eyes wild and desperate and pained . . . caught in the horrible, painful frenzy of battle. _

_He didn't want her to be taken away . . . he wanted to get her back, but he just . . . was gone._

_. . ._

_Tris, _he thought. Dread gathered in his stomach. What had happened to Tris?

"Agent T01 reporting," his mouth said. That was beyond Tobias. Since when did his body have a mind of its own?

A woman came into the room—well, at first she looked like a woman, but Tobias saw that around her eyes were scales, and her eyes had slitted pupils. "Agent T01, any flaws?"

"He's a bit stiff. Too resistant," came his reply. Now Tobias was becoming confused—he was both saying it and _not _saying it. How was he meant to separate himself from his mind and what was _happening_?

"You'll have to work harder. He's a legion of Ares. One of the finer fighters."

Tobias felt himself sit up. "I don't think he was wiped. I can . . . I can still feel him."

The woman froze. "_Impossible._"

* * *

I run my hand down my calf, aware that for some reason the cut I received from the sword no longer exists. How that is I don't know.

The door opens suddenly, and I see a figure tumble in and fall to the floor. "Tris," it says hoarsely. It's Annabeth. I hardly recognise her. "Annabeth!" I yell in an undertone. "Annabeth, how—? Why—?"

"Tris, listen—I don't have much time. I got the guards' minds and put them to sleep, then got out of my cell. I don't have enough energy to try and get out, but _listen_."

She slowly drags herself across the floor towards me. "The other cells—they're full of demigods, just they're . . . out. I tried to see what they were thinking—they have no minds! There's nothing in their heads! And then in their storage room its full of some sort of concentrated Eidolons—I think . . . I think they're making soldiers. Eidolons don't feel pain in the bodies, they just . . . control them. They're the perfect soldier!" Annabeth sounds scared—horrified. "They have people we know—Alec, and . . ." she took a deep breath, her eyes wide and staring into space. "Of course . . . Leo . . ."

"What are you talking about? Annabeth, please."

"Look, Leo was one of the people that was part of the Prophecy of Seven with me and P— with us. He was . . . he had the gift of fire. One of the strongest demigods of the Prophecy. The fact that he's _here_ . . . that's not good."

"Annabeth, _what are you talking about?"_

"To be honest, I have no idea. It's a mad, _sick _idea that is too dangerous and catastrophic to think about, but I need to properly think about it."

She turns to go, but I stop her. "Annabeth—my leg's healed."

Annabeth looks back slowly. "Nectar extract, probably. When you were brought here, you blacked out, yeah? They must have given you a diluted Nectar injection to heal you properly."

"Then why are they torturing us?" I ask her.

She sinks to the ground again, her thinking face on—which makes me slightly more comfortable, oddly. "They must be trying to test our strength—so they know what to do with us."

I swallow. I don't want to stay on the topic. "Who's Leo?"

"A friend of ours in the Prophecy. There were seven of us—eight of us, I guess—Jason, Piper, Leo, Hazel, Frank, Nico, me, and . . ."

I nod. _And Percy. _"So . . . Jason's my—"

"Great-great-grandfather was Jason Grace, right? So . . . who was my great-great-grandmother?"

"Piper McLean. Daughter of Aphrodite. Charmspeaker. Wicked skills with a dagger," Annabeth shifted into a more comfortable position. "She managed to charmspeak Gaea back to sleep. I never thought that was possible. Mind you, all the kids in the Prophecy were amazing. All new bombs with amazing talents—Frank who could change shape, Hazel who tamed Arion and could summon jewels and precious metals, Jason and his lightning, Piper with her charmspeak and Leo with his fire. Even Nico was starting to come into his element."

"What about you and . . . ?" I didn't say Percy's name, because Annabeth seemed too fragile for it. Annabeth smiled sadly. "We were the old veterans. WE'd already saved Olympus once. We thought . . . we thought maybe we'd be okay, like, we'd never have to put our lives on the line and do it all again. But _no_. We had to do it again, in a war twice as bad. Percy saves Olympus _single-handedly _and he's kidnapped, has his memory wiped and is sent off into enemy territory. We have to do _another _war when our time for heroics was long over." She sighed sadly. "The universe doesn't make bargains."

I watch Annabeth as he downcast eyes shed a tear that rolls down her cheek. "We thought that maybe, after all we'd done—we'd saved he world countless times over the past few years—that maybe we'd be able to, like . . . retire or something. Stay on as instructors at camp. I guess heroes aren't as common as they used to be."

"So . . . you died the second time?"

"We died after I defeated Arachne in Rome. Died in Tartarus, fought our way through and then closed the Doors on our side, just after we sealed the Doors by giving ourselves up—'_the pathway out of hell can only be sealed shut by those who have suffered its wrath'—_and then we end up here. Un-dead."

"But . . . isn't it like, an honour to save Olympus?"

Annabeth snorted. "Maybe it was the first time. Maybe that's what it's meant to be, but that's not what _I _thought of it. It's a bloody war where people die and lives are ruined. We merely ended it. We were rewarded, we were happy. But then we have to go through all that blood and gore and pain _again_? It wasn't right." She wiped the tear from her face. "And we started to get bitter—Percy and I—back when we were younger, we thought that it was impossible to do that. Our _enemy's leader _was once one of us; just he went bitter after being used by the gods. And that's what . . . _we _were doing. We . . . we started to hate Luke for it—Percy more than me. When we went on the second Great Prophecy . . . we started to understand why he'd gone bitter. And then, guess what? We _die." _

Annabeth rubbed her temples. "And death wasn't even the end. Except that . . . all that time I knew I could count on the fact that I always had Percy—no matter how far away he was, he was _there, _he knew who I was. And now . . . now he's finally gone."

When she looks up, her eyes are shattered, like she's broken to pieces and she can't even begin to think of how to fix herself or what to do. That that scares her, that for once, she doesn't know what to do. "And I think that's finally broken me."

* * *

**. . . Do you people hate me now?**

**I don't know why but I'm getting a vibe that you people hate me. I mean, (a) I'm really mean to Percy, (b) I start confusing you with the Tobias situation, and (c) I start going into torture stuff.**

**And then of course there's Leo . . .**

**Well, I'm just gonna . . . run for my life now . . .**

**Okay, this isn't going to become a torture fic - I just had to do that for future stuff. **

******EXTRA SNAZZY BONUS QUESTION******

**What is your favorite type of ice-cream? **

**I like Eskimo Pies and Maxibons. *shrugs* If you don't like ice-cream, you can have go at how old I am. I'll tell you now I'm still in school. **

**I just like trying to get you to figure out who I am, don't I? *shakes head***

**Anyway, see ya!**

**Until the next chapter,**

**Please R&R,**

**-Owl**


	16. Chapter 16

**HELLO!**

**. . . Okay, I know you people hate me right now, but let me say this:**

**Jeez, I just said I killed Percy. I never said he was DEAD. Jeez.**

**You people are worse than ****_I _****am. And that's saying something. Something BIG. **

**Hey hey! School has started again and I am actually in some classes with Cat this year. Oh yeah. **

**Creepy fact: There's a new boy in my school house called Tobias. HOW CREEPY IS THAT?!**

**Disclaimer: I OWN ABSOLUTELY NOTHING EXCEPT MY OCs . . . AND MY PLOT . . . AND THE ACTUAL WORDS I'VE WRITTEN AND ALL THE PAIN I'M CAUSING YOU POOR PEOPLE. NOT EVEN ANNABETH'S TELEKINETIC SKILLS BELONG TO ME. THEY'RE CAT'S. I MEAN, WOULD I BE WRITING FANIFCTION IF I ****_DID _****OWN THE CHARACTERS?**

* * *

**_Chapter 16: Hope_**

**Forgetting is bliss sometimes. **To forget your pain, to forget how utterly lonely in a cruel, cold world you are, to forget everything and just . . . forget.

I can't remember the torture they did that day . . . the day the sky was grey and yet it didn't rain. It never rained out there, apparently. I can remember fragments—screams, cold smiles under hoods . . . a creature reaching up to lower their hood . . . being gagged and bound, watching a creature advance with their grotesque face . . .

But other than that I can't remember. My burns have healed—differently that what I would have thought. They were no longer silvery ridges in my skin, but white, rolling script of phrases. They hardly looked like burns at all.

The wind from outside blew around the cell. The tiny hole in the wall—the size of a brick—with mesh covering let in enough of the outside for ventilation, and enough to make it bitterly cold, but not enough to make the air feel fresh. I try looking out of it once, but I didn't see the ground, only the hazy horizon in the distance.

The fact that Tobias is no longer here sits in the back of my mind. Constantly and painfully. For split seconds in torture I forget that it's there, and even though the physical pain is excruciating, I'm happy.

Pain is a strange concept to grasp.

Lying on the cold ground of my cell, the cold wind billowing out from behind me, with the pristine door in front of me, it's hard to remember what my life is like beyond the confines of this tiny place. I can hardly recall fear. I dimly remember being afraid of torture, but now, for some sick, twisted reason, I look forward to it. Because it can make me forget.

For a moment I let my eyelids close over my aching eyes, and immediately the horrible scene of the bullet planting in Tobias's chest flashes beneath them, and my eyes fly open again. I bring my scarred legs up to my chest and grip them tightly, making sure my eyes stay open.

No. I can still remember fear.

I roll over to face the small hole in the wall I have come to regard as a window. Annabeth hasn't come to talk to me since that night where she admitted that she is falling apart. I don't expect her to come back, either. Whatever they're doing to her, it can't be good.

I stare out of the window, faintly seeing a sliver of steel-grey sky. I concentrate on the wind. As it blows into my face, it calms me. I still can't bring myself to close my eyes, though.

"You don't even look like yourself anymore," Tobias says from behind me.

Over the past few days I have gotten used to him appearing at random. Wither from hallucinations of blackouts. I know he's never there, but for some reason . . . I still have the knife he tossed me. How is it that a hallucination can produce something solid? How is that possible?

"I don't care what I look like," I snap at him. "To be honest, how is it that you can sit there and calmly say that?"

Tobias pauses. "What if I were to tell you I'm not dead?"

"You are. You died _right in front of me. _I would know it when you were dead. I would . . . I would feel it."

"But you've never felt when someone's dead before."

"My parents," I snarl. "You forgot that."

I concentrate back on the wind. I wish some would blow to make him go away—to blow him away so he drifted off. I feel something strange in the pit of my stomach, and a gust of wind blows past me.

I guess I'm hungry.

"But how do you _know _I'm dead?" he pressed.

"Do you take joy in my pain or something?" I yell, but I don't look at him. "You are dead. You _have _to be dead. If you aren't . . . then what would I do? Every single thing I thought I knew would be useless. What's stopping me from breaking under the weight of not being able to distinguish truth from lies?"

Tobias's voice becomes very dark. "So you would give up on me?"

I tear myself from the window and roll myself to an upright position, staring at him. "Why does that matter? For all I know you've given up on me already."

"So there's no reason I gave you the knife? None at all?"

"No," I tell him. "What am I going to do with it? I can't _close my eyes _without being in pain. How do you think I can fight my way out?"

Tobias's anger vanishes. He slouches back against the wall. "I don't know."

Seeing Tobias weak is something I'll never forget. My hand is itching to reach out and touch him, to try and make myself believe that he's still alive . . . but I can't.

I lean against the wall. "Maybe we can hope. Though I doubt it."

Tobias's dark blue eyes watch me. "Maybe."

* * *

Annabeth had figured out that they weren't so keen on torturing her.

They were using her.

The next day they dumped her in a room the size of a warehouse with twenty monsters. They gave her back her knife, and told her to fight.

The first monster was a _dracaenae. _As it lowered its hood, the pale face and dark hair struck Annabeth as so . . . _human. _Except there were green scales that laced the skin around the woman's eyes and the eyes were amber-gold with slitted pupils.

As the woman opened her mouth, Annabeth saw thin fangs for canines. The snake-lady took off her outer cloak then, revealing pristine armour untouched by the sun. Instead of two snake trunks for legs, as Annabeth remembered them, she had human legs. Just there were waves of scales running down them.

The monster held a shield and a spear. That much Annabeth remembered to be true.

Monsters, it seemed, had evolved over the brief period in time. Annabeth wondered what could have caused such a rapid change, but she didn't have that much time. The monster was fast—demigod speed fast—and they were smarter. They thought about their attacks, they analysed Annabeth's moves.

It was scary.

In the warehouse there were perhaps three hundred monsters. She fought them all.

The worst of the evolved monsters had to be the hellhounds. They looked like scruffy men and woman—sort of like barbarians from the time of Ganges Khan—but they were something to fear. She remembered the modern-day werewolf idea—where they could simply change into wolves—huge, brutal wolves—like the hellhounds. They weren't as big as the older hellhounds, but they had thicker coats of coarser hair, and they attacked with human intelligence.

By the end of the day, Annabeth wasn't sure how she had managed to survive.

When she hit the ground of her cell, she was too tired to move. Of course they'd taken her knife away again, but at that moment she was so tired she didn't care. She lay on the ground, unmoving, making an effort to breathe.

She didn't realise she'd fallen asleep.

. . .

_The sky was lit up with red like blood. Below the sky were endless fields of wheat. The day seemed to speed up, the sun climbing into the sky at a rapid pace, the wheat swaying superhumanly fast. Then it all slowed down again, and Annabeth's vision shifted to see a tarmac road with a sign, but Annabeth couldn't make out the words._

_Up the road came three people on horseback—a boy on a black pegasi, and a boy and a girl on a storm spirit horse. At the edge of the wheat field came out a god—Annabeth recognised it as Bacchus—the Roman form of Mr D. _

_Annabeth recognised the boy on the Pegasus—painfully. Even though she could only see the back of his head, she knew him._

_Again the scene sped up. The demigods were talking, and then a wind blew the wheat fields, and Bacchus disappeared._

_Suddenly her vision appeared in another spot. A garden. Inside the garden was Bacchus, sitting on a reclining chair and basking in the sun. _

_Someone appeared in front of Annabeth—like a silhouette blocking off what she could see. She could only see the back of their head—with shaggyy black hair. It was like watching a dramatic movie scene. Bacchus looked up, for a moment with placid curiosity and then something else came into his eyes—a sort of disbelief. _

_"You have to tell him," the person said. "Next time you see Percy, you have to tell him his path will be hard." _

_"Who _are _you?" Bacchus asked. He sat up on his chair, his potbelly making him struggle. The person turned away, showing Annabeth a faint profile she didn't recognise. "Tell him. Tell him it will be hard. You gods don't know just how hard it will be."_

_There was a bright white flash, like a god showing their true form before teleporting, and then her vision went black._

. . .

Annabeth's eyes flew open. She could dimly remember it . . . Bacchus was in it . . . and P— and him . . . and that other person. The person that had told Bacchus to tell . . . _him _that he . . . what had he said?! It was something important—the main thing!—but she couldn't remember what had been said.

The wind was howling in her cell. The small hole in the wall was letting in a wind that smelled of rain. She doubted it would actually rain, and if it did, then it wouldn't be any use to her.

The bolts of her cell door bolted out, and the door creaked open. Outside stood a cloaked monster. "Come. Your lessons are due again."

So there it was: her purpose here. She was here to train the monsters.

Or so she thought.

* * *

It took Tobias a long time to finally figure out what was going on.

He remembered when Tris had been possessed by those . . . things. Eidolons, Annabeth had called them. Possessive spirits. He figured that must have been what was going on with him. Just they had tried to wipe his mind—leaving the Eidolon in full control.

After the scaly woman had gasped and run out of the room, she had returned with the last person Tobias expected.

Percy.

Except he didn't . . . _seem _like Percy. Tobias didn't see anything different about him at first, he only felt anger rising in his so hard he felt like exploding. He had _trusted _Percy. Percy was a friend—_had _been a friend. And this whole time he was _working with the enemy?!_

_No he hasn't, _a voice said. Tobias froze—well, his mind did. It seemed he had no control over his body now that the Eidolon was in there. _That there is Master Wraith. _

_That's PERCY JACKSON! _Tobias screamed.

_"Do we have a problem, dracaenae_?" Percy said. Tobias knew in that split second that it wasn't Percy, then. The voice was so _horrible. _Tobias noticed his eyes then, as well. They were black. Heartless black eyes. They weren't they eyes Tobias had seen on Percy's face—_those _eyes were Percy's. Green. The black eyes weren't. They didn't belong to Percy any more than the voice did.

"The Eidolon—Agent T01—he said he could still feel the legion's mind."

_Crap, _Tobias thought.

_Shut up and I'll get you out of this._

_WHAT?_

_SHUT UP!_

_"Is what she says true_?" The 'Master Wraith' said. The Eidolon that controlled Tobias swallowed. "At first he had been . . . and then he just . . . disappeared."

The Master Wraith nodded. "_So he is gone now?"_

"For the moment, yes."

The woman was looking between Tobias and the Wraith frantically. "But, Master Wraith, if he had been able to have his conscious mind _remain_—"

_"Then the body will be disposed of. But if he is gone now, then it is fine." _

"But there could be a fault in the system!"

_"Do not jump to conclusions," _the Wraith snarled. If Tobias had been in control of his body, he would have shuddered at how horrible it sounded. _"The fault has obviously been fixed. Besides, it is completely possible to destroy a conscious mind. I have confirmed that myself."_

The woman looked down. "Of course, sir. I was being foolish, sir. My apologies—sir."

The Wraith nodded and walked away without a second glance. The woman looked back at Tobias. "You're expected in the training rooms in half an hour."

Then the woman left as well. The Eidolon slumped.

_Who _are _you? _Tobias demanded. _What the hell were you doing? Why did you save me?_

_Jeez, don't give me a headache. In truth I don't have a name. I should get one, but—_

_But aren't you like Agent T01 or something?_

_Don't be ridiculous. That's just a title. I'm an Eidolon. Possessive spirit—you were right about that. How you survived I don't know. It should be impossible. What was I doing? I was being curious. I want to know why you're around when you shouldn't be. I didn't _save _you. I respected your strength. Legion of Ares—jeez, I wasn't expecting that._

_So—you have no name, you're and Eidolon, you only kept me here because you had no idea how I survived, and . . . ?_

_That's about it._

Tobias couldn't get over the feeling of being trapped in his own mind. It was a horrible thing. He wanted to do something but was completely unable to.

_What are you thinking? _The Eidolon asked.

_You can't tell? Well, that's a relief._

_I can only see what you force me to—a memory you think of. Other than only emotions. I can't hear what you're thinking unless you say it. _

_I can't _say _anything. _

"Well, then, _shut up."_

_You cheating b—_

"Well, duh. Eidolons are renowned for being heartless. Of course I would do this."

_You need a name . . . Clyde. I always hated that name. There—you have a name. It shows that I hate you._

"Clyde. I'm _so_ scared."

_So we go from saving my backside to hating each other. Brilliant._

Clyde got to his feet. "You're shorter than I thought you were."

_Well _that's _a comfort. _

Clyde ran his fingers over the strange headboard. Tobias wondered what he was doing. "This must be the mind wipe. Completely wireless."

_What is it, then? Some sort of simulation? _

"I'd think so. You have those little things that convey the signal to the computer—this thing is the computer has the things that give the messages. Sends out a signal that gets the things already in your head to react in such a way that your conscious mind is destroyed. How you survived I don't know. It could be like Jackson . . ."

_What about him?_

"The Wraith excels at possessing minds and controlling bodies. In extreme cases he can erase minds on his own. He said he did that to Jackson before—well, before he tried to kill the guy's girlfriend. Jackson managed to stop him. Now he says he's done the failsafe. Apparently the guy you knew is completely and utterly dead."

Tobias couldn't speak. Percy was by _far _one of the strongest people he'd ever met—basically everyone would say the same—but the fact that someone had beaten him, like, actually managed to _kill _him—that was scary.

"I guess you have to have half a brain to be afraid of the guy—the Wraith, I mean. No one in their right mind would dare _not _be afraid of him."

_You know, _Tobias said, _you're the first Eidolon I've met that speaks normally. _

_"_I'm not a normal Eidolon. I'm one of the newer generations—unlike the one that got Tris—that one had a score to settle."

_What do you know about Tris? _

Clyde paused. For the first time Tobias was able to feel what the Eidolon was feeling—embarrassment. And fear.

"Every time an Eidolon inhabits a body, we're able to go through the body's subconscious mind. The subconscious remembers and stores everything, and the conscious mind only has access to part of it. Every time you couldn't remember something it was something the conscious mind hadn't bothered to take it—the subconscious did, though."

_So you've had full access to my memories? _Tobias didn't know whether to be angry or afraid. Clyde had seen everything he had about Tris, everything he'd ever learnt, felt—_everything. _

"Just about. You think strangely."

_Strangely? _You're _the person who's not meant to be in my head! _Tobias was fuming, now. What was Clyde thinking of his memories?

"Look, what do you want to know so we can get this over with!"

Tobias's anger was mainly physical—most of the time. That was probably why he was such a good fighter. But being trapped to the confines of his mind, the only anger he could have was through the small phrases he could say. _Everything._

* * *

The Wraith was a curious being. He was certain that he was alone, with no Jackson, that there was only one mind in that body he was inhabiting. But the weather wasn't right. The Blank had not seen this type of weather for decades—not since the war had entered the tense state it was in now. Something supernatural must have been causing it.

But there was no one powerful enough to have been doing it. The legion of Jupiter may have had some small ability of winds but _this_? The clouds stretched for miles across—he'd sent some hellhounds to have a look. They'd come back after a few hours saying that it stretched right across their side of the border. The East were the Watchers, the South were the Hostiles, and the middle of the country—further towards the South—was Gaos. As soon as someone crossed the border they were in danger. It was either to turncoat or to be executed.

But Gaos's land was by far the biggest. Over the years they had become cunning. Yes, due to some chemicals that both the demigods and mortals had used in battle had forced a both welcome and unwelcome evolution with the monsters. But those on the front lines had copped it even worse.

The eyes are always the things that betray the evil within. Which is why they invented shades.

The Wraith of course couldn't do that. His voice was something he couldn't change. But that didn't matter, in the end, because everyone was so afraid of him he didn't have to bother.

He figured that Annabeth had discovered the faintest outlines of his plan, but even she would have trouble understanding it. The beauty of his plan, however, was that it couldn't fail. The best fighter ever was training the Eidolons as he stood there, he was alone in his head, and his plan was beginning to come into action.

There was only one thing that had to be done to secure the success of his plan—Gaos's plan. And that was to exterminate Annabeth Chase.

* * *

I could smell the rain that night.

I lie in the cell, and I can smell the rain. The fresh smell of the dampness in the air. I wish I can put my hand out into the open air, but I can't.

"Hey, Tris."

I missed the sound of the bolts sliding open. I missed the sound of Annabeth stepping in, and closing the door after her. I sit up slowly, ignoring the stiffness from the pain. I push myself up on the wall, so I can face her. Annabeth looks exhausted, completely drained of every ounce of energy she ever had.

She really does look broken.

"Hey," I whisper back. Annabeth looks at me carefully, her eyes seem different . . . harder. She has a deeper brow, as if she could go into a scowl by moving a millimetre. She doesn't look like the Annabeth I knew anymore.

"Sorry I haven't been to visit," she says. "I've been busy fighting."

"And I've been tortured."

"No, that's not what I mean—they're getting me to fight monsters. The monsters are different—they're able to _learn, _to analyse attacks. They've evolved—they're almost _people," _Annabeth hugged her legs. "Except somehow . . . that doesn't stop me from trying to kill them."

I let out a long breath. "Everything has to die, Annabeth."

"Tris, I used to _care_," Annabeth clenches her fists. Her face darkens into a scowl. "I used to think differently. Now I'm just . . . _evil_."

"No you're not!"

"What's the difference between me and the Wraith? He kills innocents, and I kill innocents. What if they weren't so fixed on killing me? What if there were monsters in the batch that were only fighting me because they had been ordered to?" Annabeth slams her head back on the wall. "What if I were killing monsters that were afraid?"

"You said it yourself, Annabeth—monsters don't have souls."

"Then define a monster."

I look down. There are monsters that look like monsters, there a monsters that are human because they're so evil, and then there are monsters that are anything without pity. But I can't define what a monster is. "I can't."

Annabeth sighs. "I thought so."

"Annabeth, there's a difference between you and the Wraith." If I know anything, it's that making yourself think you're something you're not . . . then slowly you physically become it. "The Wraith doesn't take a _second _to hesitate about causing pain. He doesn't regret, he doesn't . . . he doesn't _feel."_

"It's surprising," Annabeth says quietly. "How big your goal to survive can be. You can kill thousands of living things just to make sure _you're _the living thing that survives. By killing something, you take away their spark of life—you sever it from their soul. No matter how evil—how much of a monster they are . . . you're taking the ultimate possession. It's something that separates monsters from people."

"You can't blame yourself, Annabeth!" I want to grab her arm, to tell her dead in the eye that she is not a monster. But I don't think I have enough energy to do it. "And by making yourself think you're a monster . . . you're _making _yourself a monster."

Annabeth looked down. "But the thing is . . . they've taken everything from me. Even my life. They've taken my goals, my home, my family, my friends—even _Percy_ . . . and the horrible thing is . . . it makes sense that I should want to take lives in revenge."

I can't argue with that. I can't find the words to tell her to not be like that, but the thing is, I am agreeing with her. I could see how it worked. It shocks me that Annabeth has started thinking like that. The Annabeth I know doesn't think about these things. But maybe this is what happens, when people like Annabeth are finally broken.

"I didn't fight the monsters, just now," she says. "They've got me fighting the Eidolons."

"What about them? But, wouldn't the Eidolon already have skills?"

"No," Annabeth runs a hand through her ratty hair. "They must have erased their minds or something, because their skill . . . they can't seem to calculate it. Some of the older ones have nearly no skill. So . . . does that mean that the minds control the skill more than the body? I mean—the body would have to have the _potential _to be that good, but because there's no mind in there, then the Eidolon has to get the skill."

This is more the Annabeth I know. Maybe her scowl I don't, but the way she's thinking now I associate with her. She thinks about things—to figure them out.

"But what are you getting at?"

"There's a chance the Wraith is becoming useless."

* * *

There were few things that kept Annabeth occupied. One of them was sleeping, and another was listening to what the rest of the complex was thinking. There was a guard on level 5 that had a toothache. There was an Eidolon in the C block that was trying to figure out why his right hand kept jerking, and then there was the Wraith. She was never able to hear what he was thinking, because like Percy he guarded his head seriously. Annabeth was tempted to try and break it down sometimes, but she never did.

Annabeth wondered what they planned on doing to her. She guessed they were going to kill her, but how? No doubt the Wraith knew how, but Annabeth didn't.

It was in those moments she tried to sleep. Of course, when she did it was usually nightmares or those strange dreams. It was always the same person, she always saw the back of their head, and they were always telling people to warn people that their future would be hard.

The person was obviously a boy—like a girl would have a voice like _that_ (ignoring Clasrisse)—and their hair. She doubted a girl would have that sort of hairdo. And she just . . . sensed that it was a boy. But the most haunting one was the one she had after two weeks of training the Eidolons.

_"Bloody hell," a boy swore as he dropped his glass. A boy in the corner of the room looked up. His face was shrouded in shadow, but she could see the glisten of his eyes. "Hell isn't bloody," he said. It was the same boy as always. _

_The first boy that had dropped his glass looked up. Annabeth couldn't quite . . . _understand _what he looked like. It was almost like he was a simple deity made up by her subconscious to fill the role. But then she _did _understand him. He looked like Jason—just with darker hair and eyes, and he looked older. "What?"_

_"Hell isn't bloody, trust me on that," the other boy said. "It's to sophisticated a hell for that."_

* * *

"I'm one of the newer Eidolons—years of evolution. We take full control of the body, with no other minds. Basically we're like a much, much smaller version of the Wraith."

_Okay . . ._

"Anyway, we've been refined over the last few years to fully gain the host's skills—I think I'm one of the T batch . . . so we take a body—a mindless body—and we gain everything it can do, we can also gain the way the host used to think about the way they used it. Well, supposedly the T batch can do that. The rest of the batches still have problems—that's why they're being trained."

_So why am I here? How come I didn't get sucked out?_

Tobias was beyond being mad now. Being mad was useless anyway—and the longer he talked to Clyde the more energy he felt slipping away. How long before the strength it took to keep his mind there wore out? He doubted Clyde liked him there—his purpose was to recycle a body, quite frankly, and having him there was an annoyance. If he sensed Tobias slipping away, it was likely he would push him as well.

Clyde didn't say anything to answer his question. Tobias tried to see what the Eidolon was thinking, since he seemed able to see what Tobias was thinking, but encountered a wall of force. "I have a theory, but it can't be possible."

_What is it, then?!_

"I'm not going to tell you, so get used to it!" Clyde yelled. For a moment Tobias saw what he meant by gaining the host's skills. When Clyde got angry his voice dropped dangerously low. Tobias was startled and in that moment he seemed to lose his grip on his mind.

It felt like he was falling into unconsciousness, but it was more . . . blank. Tobias refused to go. Tris thought he was dead—she had to be alright!

He started thinking of all the colourful swears he could yell, but he didn't. Talking wasted precious energy he couldn't afford to lose.

"Agent T01, you are required for training," the woman said as she passed the door again. Clyde rolled on the balls of his feet and started moving. "I hope you're prepared for this," he told Tobias.

Tobias couldn't find the strength to say anything, but he tried to make Clyde feel his discomfort.

Clyde made a noise in his throat—a sort of grunt that meant he understood. Tobias had done exactly the same thing—back when _he _was in charge of his body.

Clyde walked down so many halls and lifts and stairs that Tobias thought it was as likely he'd find his way out of here as he would to get back in charge of his body again. Almost impossible. Most likely impossible.

By the time they arrived at the warehouse/training rooms he was completely clueless. He sensed Clyde's smugness and thought of a few colourful swears. If Clyde heard them, he didn't care.

Clyde melted into a crowd of other Eidolon-possessed demigods. Most of them he didn't know. One shook Clyde's hand. "Agent T01?" it asked. Clyde nodded. Tobias hated the feeling of his body moving without him making it.

"Wow, a T generation," it muttered in awe. "I'm Agent C24."

Agent C24 had ruddy-blonde hair with a pale complexion. He wasn't particularly tall, maybe an inch or so shorter than Tobias. His eyes were gold, of course. Tobias saw a pale scar that stretched over the skin around his right eye.

_T generation? You guys are just sad. _

_I wouldn't push your strength if I were you. It's Eidolon law to let the host's mind live for a maximum of three days before we _have _to destroy it._

Tobias didn't reply. He knew talking was risky. He knew he couldn't possibly survive for long. And he knew that Clyde knew that as well. But he had to stay strong some way—no matter how strange. Just _thinking _took his strength away. Not even when he'd been shot had he felt this kind of weakness. How was he meant to survive?

"Eidolons!" a voice called. Clyde faced the noise. One of the monsters was standing there, and behind him Tobias could see—with the luck that Clyde was looking at it as well—a bit of curly blonde hair. Annabeth?

"Please assemble. Training commences."

Clyde moved into line behind Agent C24, they were towards the end of the line. Tobias couldn't see what was teaching them, because the person in front's hair was so bushy it was impossible to see past them.

Tobias must have slipped then, because suddenly he just felt . . . spaced out. Maybe he could see, but he couldn't seem to care. His conscious mind seemed to slip away for a second . . . and then he could see again. He could see that the person in front of him was at the front of the line. And he could see that the 'teacher' was Annabeth.

She seemed to be in control, fighting her way past the Eidolon she was facing.

Then that control went up in smoke and every Eidolon in the room was blown backwards. Tobias's head slammed against the ground, making spots dance across his vision. _Urgh, _he moaned.

"You're telling me," Clyde muttered, rolling to his side.

"I give _up!_" Annabeth screamed. Tobias had never heard her so . . . ragged. "I _refuse _to fight another _thing_! Go and get the Wraith if you want to argue with me!"

_Oh dear . . . _Clyde said.

* * *

The Wraith had been having a fabulous day.

He had thrown countless knives into the wall, all in exactly the same spot. The clouds that had been in the area for the last few weeks were starting to disperse, and the Eidolons were—

"Master Wraith! Master Wraith! This is urgent! It must be attended to!"

The Wraith threw open the door. "_What_?" he demanded.

"The demigod—she has stopped training the Eidolons!" the hellhound yelled. The Wraith held up a hand. "How long has it been?"

"Three and a half weeks, sir."

A grim smile twisted the Wraith's lips. "Excellent," he put a hand on the hellhound's shoulder. The hellhound was smaller than most of them—even in their hound form. "Gather the forces. We have a planned execution."

"But sir—the T generation—"

"Can be taught be me," he said. "Now, her usefulness has reached an end, and we have to clear up all the loose ends, yes? Good. Now, we have to make this public so that even the strongest demigods know just how weak they all are. Spread the message and have her brought to the amphitheatre."

"Of course, sir."

The hellhound morphed himself into his wolfish self and ran down the hall. The Wraith smiled coldly and leaned against the wall. It seemed things were looking up for them.

Had he looked out the window just then, he would have seen that the clouds had formed a single line that stretched from their border right to their base.

The perfect map.

* * *

**Dun-dun-dun!**

**How are the clouds there? Why are they there? WHAT HAS MADE THEM BE THERE?!**

**I just said I killed Percy. There's a difference between killing something and them being dead. It was explained in the Lightning Thief. Any queries will PROBABLY be explained in later chapters. Likely by an OC that's remarkably like Dumbledore . . .**

**Sorry.**

**Anyway, I hope you bear with me, because I'm REALLY looking forward to getting past this bit. Annabeth gets AWESOME later! After maybe a chapter of revelation or something . . .**

**The funny thing is I have a better idea of where this story is going NOW than I did when we were back in Dauntless. Strange, isn't it? The Wraith plays a big part, let me tell you. **

**And so does Nico . . .**

**And GEEZ I HAVE TO STOP SPOILING! URGH! YOU NEVER READ THOSE LINES! **

**. . .**

**Anywhoo . . .**

*****EXTRA COOL AND CATCHY QUESTION*****

**Who is your favorite Doctor Who?**

**For me it's a toss up between Tom Baker, David Tennant and Matt Smith**

**I think Matt Smith fits the quirky side and smart side of the Doctor really well, I'll say that. Because I always imagine the Doctor as a quirky guy. I mean, 1,000 years old how can you NOT go quirky? **

**And Cat - that wasn't your Extra Snazzy BONUS Question, was it? AHA! **

**Okay, random question if you feel like answering it: have you heard the music called 'Lily's Theme' from Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows Part 2? If so, what do you think? I love it because I can play the violin part and it is SO cool!**

**Until the next chapter,**

**Please R&R,**

**-Owl**


	17. Chapter 17

**WOW you people hate me! NO reviews on the last chapter . . . well . . . I've written this chapter . . . maybe you'll feel better? Like, you might talk to me? Because I don't like being lonely . . .**

**OOH! A REVIEW!**

**toe walker: YAY! YOU STILL LIKE ME (sorta)! Well, you find out what actually happens with the Percy/Wraith issue in this chapter - on a cliffie. Next chapter'll be pretty dramatic . . . hmm. **

**I like Matt Smith, I have to say. Tom Baker's good too - _"Would you like a jellybaby?" -_ okay, thanks for the review!**

**Okay, a warning: there is some minor swearing in this. Coming from a PJO character. Usually I wouldn't do that, but since we're in the Divergent world . . . and they swear . . . this one swear word isn't that bad, is it? **

**Well . . . if you, like, hate me ****_less _****after this . . . then review? Even of its a flame?**

**Okay, I'll explain my idea:**

**Look, I had to kill Percy so that we could get to see what happens without him, and let that create four different POVs from which we get to see all angles of the story, savvy? So we have Tris, Annabeth, Tobias and the Wraith. The Wraith isn't permanent, so then we get down to three, and then we chop it down back to two like it was at the start. And then . . . yeah.**

**Annabeth: she gets to show you the limits of the sides of the war**

**Tris: she gets to show you what the cities are like**

**Tobias/Clyde: that's how you find out what the enemy's planning**

**The Wraith/Percy: a major character development thing, because I liked the way Rick was going and decided to expand on that. And there's even more . . . Just know this: Percy is probably my favorite character from PJO, and there's NO WAY I would make him die. Kill him maybe, but not be DEAD. Just . . . MIA. He HAS to have a major part in the fanfic, so no matter what crap I may pt you through with what happens he'll always turn up again, savvy? Good.**

**Disclaimer: I DO NOT OWN A THING EXCEPT THE PLOT IDEA AND MY OCs AND MY WORDS. ANNABETH'S NEW SKILLS BELONG TO CAT**

* * *

**_Chapter 17: Unpredictable _**

At first I think it was thunder.

Then I realise it's coming from the _inside _of my head. Not the outside.

It must have come from being tortured.

There's a metallic _twang _and I look up. Of course, Tobias is sitting there. That doesn't surprise me. "It was always you, you know," he says. "Always the person you least expect."

"Somehow I don't care," I tell him coldly. "Make sense?"

"You never used to be like this," he mutters.

"_That's _because I wasn't being tortured every day! _That's _because I didn't have to be locked in this bloody cell! _That's _because I was still sane!"

"Don't need to lecture me," he snaps. "Not my fault you ended up like that."

"Just shut up," I groaned. "Shut up shut up shut up! Maybe it _isn't _your fault, but that doesn't mean you have to rub it in!"

"Still have that knife I gave you?" he asks suddenly. I glare at him. He sits back. "You'll need it soon. Usually people say keep your friends close. Screw that. With a knife you'd better keep your enemies close. Because that's the only place you can stab them."

The bolts slide open and Tobias disappears. Two guards come in and grab my arms, hauling me to my feet. They drag me through the corridors, and then everything goes black as they teleport.

When my vision clears I can see we're outside. The guards push me to my knees. I look sideways and see Annabeth on her knees in the middle of this . . . pit we're in. There are assembled forces on the benches that line the pit like stairs. Some of them look completely human, even with camouflage gear and shades.

"_Annabeth Chase," _the Wraith says. I feel sick just looking at him. "_You have refused to train the Eidolon soldiers any further, is that correct?_"

"Why don't you tell me?" Annabeth snarls at him.

_"If your ability to cooperate with us has come to an end, then we must get rid of useless prisoners. And you, Annabeth Chase, are unneeded beyond this point. You may still have a chance to train—to stay alive."_

"I died a _long _time ago!" Annabeth snaps. She struggles against her guards, trying to attack him. "And training things to kill my friends is not how I imagined the afterlife!"

_"This is your execution, demigod."_

"Try and kill me, then!"

The Wraith smiles at this. I can only watch in shock as Annabeth argues with the Wraith. "_There are only two ways to kill you in particular, demigod. One is to find your mortal point, and the other is to die at the blade that has saved you from death more times than you can count. Guess which blade I am holding right now, then?"_

Fear has no place on Annabeth's face. She stares down the Wraith. "Go on, then," she says. "Do it."

* * *

Nico stared up at the clouds. Behind him was the entire remaining force from Odysseus. He didn't know why, but he just had a . . . _sense _that the clouds were going to lead him somewhere. Somewhere that required an army—maybe the Gaos headquarters.

He should have told them. He should have told Percy and Annabeth what the war really was. He should have told them that in a way the monsters had won and lost at the same time. He should have told them that the beginning _was _the end. That they knew all along why the war had started because he had let them stay in Tartarus at the Doors.

"What is this?" a familiar voice shrieked. "Nico di Angelo, what the hell are you doing?"

Nico didn't feel like lying to Thalia. She saw right through him. She _was _about fourteen years older than him . . . sort of. "These clouds lead somewhere," he said, scratching his chin. He found it strange how he looked so much older than Thalia and yet he was younger. He looked mid-twenties, she looked sixteen. Strange.

Thalia whacked him over the head with her bow. "So you're getting us all out her for _that_?"

"No," he snapped. "There's a possibility they lead to Gaos."

Thalia poked him in the chest with an arrow. "That is the single-most _stupid _thing I have ever heard, Nico," she said. "Not even Percy was that stupid!"

"You don't deny he was stupid," he pointed out.

"Don't change the subject!" she growled. "Why would they lead to Gaos? _Why_?"

"If the Wraith invaded Percy's mind—"

"You don't need to remind me."

"But _if _he did, then Percy may still be alive. And if he is, he may still be able to be making those clouds!"

"What makes you think the Wraith would have spared him?" Thalia's bright blue eyes had become as cold as ice. "In this homicidal world we have left, what makes you think that the Wraith would let Percy live? He would have destroyed him to bring up the spirits of the Eidolons! Nico, it is impossible that Percy is alive. It _may _be possible that Annabeth is, but if she is, and we _don't _end up at Gaos, and they see us, what do you think they'll do? They'll think she's calling for help and kill her!"

"But they'll kill her anyway!"

"Nico, we can't jump to conclusions! We can't _hope_. It's too dangerous, Death Boy."

Nico looked down. "You've changed a lot."

Thalia gave a bitter laugh. "And you haven't? If I hadn't changed, do you think I'd be alive?"

"No," Nico admitted. "I _know _you wouldn't be alive."

"Exactly." Thalia put her arrow back in her quiver. "Besides, it's more likely Tris is making the clouds. But even then we can't hope it's true. For all we know it's a trap."

"They have our best trainers and some of our best fighters," Nico said.

"And they have a much larger army of _monsters _that have _evolved _to be almost _human _and they are not _stupid_, Nico. They know how to plan a trap. If Percy is dead then the Wraith has full access to his powers. _He _could be making the clouds to lure us so he can destroy us, then there's only the Westers."

"You forgot recycling us."

"Oh, he'd love to get his hands on you, Death Boy. Can you imagine what he'd do?"

"I try not to," Nico said. He pulled out his sword. "But Thalia, what if I'm right? What if it _does _lead to Gaos and we get them unawares?"

"I know," Thalia said. "What if you are right, and we get there and all hell breaks loose? What then, hmm? What if their huge army gets our tiny one and we lose?"

Nico knew the options were bad. He knew there was no way to convince her, because in truth his plan was stupid. It was stupid; it was suicidal; it could be a trap. All the odds and all the logic pointed to them failing. And _if, _by some miracle, they managed to beat the army they'd still have the Wraith, and that was worse than the entire wrath of the gods.

But what if he was right? They had so much to gain and so much to lose—there was even a chance that Leo was alive.

Then there was this . . . _sense _that he had that he had to go. That this _wasn't _a trap, that this was their hope. Thalia would never believe him. Not since Jason had died.

Thalia had changed since he died in that skirmish. Almost fifty years ago. From that moment on she became a lot less sympathetic, a lot harder. More reliant on the laws of life and death. She _had _changed, and that had kept her alive in places even Nico would have been killed. He knew she didn't want Annabeth and Tris to be stuck there, but she wasn't willing to risk it.

Thalia planted the butt of her spear in the ground and leaned on it. Suddenly she jumped and yelled at him, "_what did you call me?"_

"I didn't say anything!" he said, backing away. Thalia levelled her spear. Nico knew she hated being called names. Somehow she must have—

_Shut up and get moving, you idiot! Annabeth needs help!_

Nico and Thalia froze. They stared at each other. _What was that? _Thalia mouthed. Nico shook his head. _No idea. _

_It isn't a trap. Now get off your butts and get her. She's getting executed in three hours._

Nico could only stare. Who and what had said that? And whatever it was, it wasn't saying anything else. Thalia's bright eyes were scarily hard. "Well then, _thing, _why should we trust you?"

_Pinecone Face._

Thalia's face went bright red. Nico let himself grin, which he did so rarely. "I'll go and get the rest of them."

* * *

Tobias had never felt fear like this.

Clyde was standing within the ranks of soldiers. He was looking at the blade that was resting on Annabeth's throat. "_You don't know what you're getting into, Miss Chase," _he said. "_The only resting place for manifested souls is Chaos."_

"What have I got to lose? My dignity?" Tobias could only see a slight angle of her face, but he could see how tense her face was. With anger. "That was lost a long time ago."

"_Strong and foolish words for a soon-to-be dead," _the Wraith said. _"You cannot begin to imagine Chaos, foolish demigod."_

"If it's what made you then it can't be half as bad," Annabeth spat. "Maybe they know the difference between somebody _else's _body."

The Wraith pushed the sword further into Annabeth's throat. Tobias saw a red line of blood trickle down her neck. "_Why haven't I killed you yet?"_

"I was thinking the same thing," Annabeth said casually. "I mean, for someone like me death's something to look forward to—I mean, it can't be as bad as last time, right? Tartarus is horrible."

The Wraith sneered. _"You have a smart tongue. I knew I should have cut it off."_

"Bit late now."

"_SHUT UP!" _

"Why? Why should I listen to _you?" _Annabeth's eyebrows drew together, and Tobias felt the pressure in the air multiply by a hundred, making his ears pop. The Wraith raised his sword. "_There are few things that I will enjoy,_" he said. "_But this is one of those things."_

* * *

The Wraith raised his sword. He preferred the more gruesome approach to the things he did. Because it always made everyone else squeamish. And there was a way to send it down to the enemy to tell them that their hope was worth losing.

He took a deep breath, feeling the heavy air in his lungs. Annabeth looked up at him with hard grey eyes. _Go on, _she said. _Don't keep the audience waiting._

The Wraith was certain that he could do it. Jackson was destroyed—he had destroyed him himself. He didn't exist anymore. He _knew _there would be no interruptions to what he planned on doing. He was going to do it because it needed to be done.

He let his arm fall. The sword felt light in his hand as it flew towards Annabeth Chase's neck.

And then it stopped. _No, _the Wraith though. _NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO!_

Jackson's voice was deadly calm in his head. The Wraith could almost the sound of him pulling down the hammer of a gun in preparation to fire.

_Hands off my girlfriend, asshole._

* * *

**I ****_told _****you there was swearing. Well, that's the end of the swearing.**

**Do you hate me less now? Like, not-going-to-kill-me hate anymore? If so, YAY! **

**This was a ****_ridiculously _****short chapter, for which I apologize but I had to end it on that cliffie. Next chapter's gonna be long! At ****_least _****over 7,000 words!**

**Well . . . if anyone cares (you probably don't) I was listening to "Big Brat" by Phantom Planet when writing this. Someone told me to write what music I was listening to in the AN of every chapter. I'm just doing it to shut them up. **

**Okay, so . . . the next chapter will appear soon!**

**Oh, and I'm re-reading Divergent and Insurgent to get a better grip on Tris's character, since she's gone WAY too OOC. That's good. **

*****EXTRA COOL AND AWESOME QUESTION*****

**Which is better: Divergent or Insurgent?**

**DIVERGENT. That's my answer.**

**And yes, I forgot what the name of the question was. *shrugs* Angsty music does that to you.**

**Insurgent's too soppy for me with not enough, like . . . how do I put this . . . ? Not enough sort of depth that Divergent had - like how she was meant to get into the faction, Insugent doesn't give me that same feeling. It's just Tobias/Tris stuff and people dying. WHY DID YOU HAVE TO KILL LYNN?! SHE WAS MY FAVORITE CHARACTER! **

**Okay, until the next chapter,**

**Please R&R,**

**-Owl**


	18. Chapter 18

**HELLO AGAIN!**

**Jeez I'm doing really well with this story and then TBT's getting no attention . . . just like last year when I was writing TBT. Strange . . .**

**Anywhoo, here is Chapter 18. Hope you enjoy!**

**Review Replies: **

**The Lazy Bookworm: YAY! THANKS! Well, Percy's back at the moment . . . so yeah. **

**1Dol: Don't worry, there are heaps of people that hate me! You can't be liked without hated, quite frankly. I have people who like me because other people hate me. *grins* strange world, innit? Anyway, here is the next chapter! Hope you enjoy!**

**toe walker: well, that is a fair point to like Insurgent, I'm just a bit more actiony than romancey. Action = good and violent. Guts and blood and gore and stuff like that I can have so much fin writing. Romance = staring at the computer. ****_What can I do what can I do what can I do that is too SOPPY! _****I have some problems as you can see. **

**anon: haha. True dat. Harry Potter fans rock! (that's because I am one)**

**WaterandWisdom: I'M WRITING! LET ME TELL YOU! YOU GET TO SEE NOW!**

**Guest: THANKS!**

**sunnyday45: which guy? The one that was like 'hell isn't bloody' or the one that dropped his glass? The guy in the corner's meant to be really dark and angsty, so . . . crap I just gave away spoilers. O.O crap. **

**MysticWishes: Awww! Thanks! Oh! I saw your dA account! I have one too! I made a comment on your profile. c:**

**Disclaimer: I. OWN. FREAKING. NOTHING. Sadly. **

* * *

**_Chapter 18: Gone All Over Again_**

**The monsters holding me down were the first to go. **"Don't move," someone whispers in my ear—Thalia. "Just stay absolutely still."

I look up to see the Wraith bring down his sword, dread gathering in my stomach—

And then it freezes. The Wraith's face is replaced by horror, and then he crumples to the ground in pain. "_NOW!" _Thalia yells.

I tear the knife from my pocket and catch the gun Thalia tosses me. I shoot down two monsters that are coming at me. Something grabs my shoulder, and I whirl around in time to feel it graze my throat. I stab the creature through the head and turn back to Annabeth, but she's lost in the huge swirl of monsters.

"Tris!" someone yells. I look towards the voice and see Nico. "What—?" he sees my scars from the weeks of being tortured, and nods solemnly. "Where's Annabeth?"

"I don't know," I tell him, ducking under a monster's swing. She was about to get killed—and then I lost her."

Nico nods and starts running. I look to follow him and catch a punch to the temple. I slam against the ground, the wind rushing from my lungs. I look up and see Alec, except with dull gold eyes. The shock stuns me, but as he brings out a gun I roll sideways, the bullet grazing my shoulder.

I bite back a scream and slash my small knife across his back, watching him fall to his knees and raise his pistol at me. Someone rushes past and kicks the gun from his hand, before running off. Alec's gold eyes glare at me, and he falls backwards as someone kicks him in the back of the head.

I try to get air back in my lungs. That was too close. I duck under a wolfish monster's jaws and shoot at it, unable to see where I'm firing in the huge mass of black fur.

I must hit the right spot because suddenly it explodes in golden vaporous dust. I start running, looking for Annabeth—or _anyone_. A girl in silvery clothes grabs my arm as I slip on some bloody ground. "Thanks," I breathe, but not before she turns to fire some arrows at an oncoming monster. She looks back with a smile, but then a monster she hadn't seen rushes at her—

I try to scream, but it's too late. I look away as its spear finds its mark.

I try to jump over some seal-like creature, but its fangs close around my ankle and pull me down. It looms over me. I raise my gun. It bares its fangs. "Foolish legion," it says. I pull down the hammer. "Last words?" I ask.

It laughs. "You have much to learn," it says. "Go on—don't waste my time."

I pull the trigger and jump to my feet as it explodes into dust. As I run through a clearing in the battle, I realise something: I'm not scared. But I am not brave, I know that. Something is wrong with me. I have no ability to be scared by this—by the deaths and the killings I am causing. How is that possible?

"Tris, duck!" Thalia screams. I fall to the bloodied grass as three arrows whiz over my head, hitting the head of a hound. It lets out a high-pitched whimper and collapses, crumbling to dust as it hits the ground. Thalia pulls me to my feet, seeing the blood running down my arm. "That has to hurt. How are you fighting with that?"

I flash the scars on my arm from weeks of torture. "I don't feel it."

* * *

Annabeth watched with a twisted mix of pleasure and horror as the Wraith's arm froze. His face paled, and he crumpled to the ground.

Just as the battle started.

Annabeth didn't care about the battle. She lunged at the Wraith, planting her knee on his chest and holding down is arms. He bared his teeth, his black eyes bright with fear. Annabeth could hardly control her anger at him.

Then something happened. The black eyes looking back at her seemed to split down the middle—like an egg. Between the two sides of the black iris was sea green. Percy's eyes.

"Annabeth," he whispered. Half of his mouth was smiling, the other half was limp. Annabeth blinked away tears. "That's impossible," she said in horror.

Then Percy winced and the green darkened. The Wraith grabbed her wrist and suddenly the world disappeared.

* * *

Tobias watched as Alec raised his gun at Tris. _No! _he yelled, fighting for control. _TRIS!_

But it seemed that he didn't need to. Clyde started running at them. Tobias couldn't make out what he was thinking, but he got a sense that they were in agreement: Tris had to be helped.

He rushed past, kicking the gun from his hand. It flew out past him. Clyde sped off, making sure Tris couldn't see who they were. Clyde glanced back and saw Alec snarling. He rushed back, planting a kick in the guy's back before running away again.

_We have to get out of here, _Clyde said. _They'll kill us—they think you're dead, so they just have to kill me. We have to run. _

_Where to?_

_San Francisco?_

_Where the hell is that?_

_In the West. It's where the Westerners are. They won't pick us out if you let me do the talking. _

Tobias let Clyde run out of the battle. Some sense told him that Tris was okay—when she had looked at Alec she hadn't shown an ounce of fear. There was nothing holding that girl back.

Except him

Clyde stumbled. _Dude, stop thinking like that. _

Tobias tried to keep to himself, but he couldn't. If Tris had a hope that he was alive, everything she had built up to stay strong would crumble—he _knew _that.

_SHUT _UP! Clyde yelled. Tobias was vaguely aware of the Blank speeding past them. _Think like that and we'll get nowhere. We have to get away _now, _that way they won't know we existed and won't come looking for us. Now be quiet and let me run._

Tobias felt his legs going numb from the speed he was running. He could feel the air burning his lungs—but he wasn't making himself move. It was both relaxing and horribly trapping. He decided to shake it off. Clyde had saved Tris—

_Why did you save Tris's life?_

Clyde didn't answer, he kept running. Tobias felt his eagerness to get away from Gaos—to disappear.

_I told you. I had access to your memories._

* * *

Percy had never felt so much pain.

Every second it was sliding between him and the Wraith—both equally matched, fighting over the same thing. Maybe the Wraith was stronger, but Percy refused to admit that. He was going to win—whether he liked it or not.

His knees hit the ground, and he rolled onto his back, biting back screams of pain. _You can't win, Jackson, _it taunted. It seemed to be laughing. Percy groaned and fought him back, and for a horrible moment the Wraith was in control.

But Percy wouldn't let him win. A face came into his blurry vision—pale with curly blonde hair. "Percy," Annabeth said. "Percy, come on, _please_."

"Nice to see you too," he groaned. "Urgh!"

The Wraith poured images into his head—cities burning, people screaming, some so horrible he couldn't process them. He ground his teeth. He was _not _going to lose.

He could see Annabeth's grey eyes looking down at him—they were crying. It filled him with sadness—and it made him feel angry and miserable and just so _horrible. _The Wraith felt like someone jabbing a spear through the back of his head.

Percy felt Annabeth's hand grab his. For a moment he felt joy—then the Wraith used it as a distraction. He threw his conscious at Percy, trying to gain control of his hands. He wanted to grab Annabeth's hand so hard it shattered. But Percy wouldn't let him. He locked his hands, and though one hand clenched so tightly his nails cut his palm, the other remained completely slack.

He couldn't bring himself to put Annabeth through any more pain.

He concentrated on the feeling of Annabeth's hand in his. It was _his _hand, not the Wraith. It was _his _body, and the Wraith was _never _taking it from him ever again. _I told you there was an entering fee, _he told the Wraith. _And that's certain death, just so you know._

* * *

The battle went for hours. All in all I only was wounded three more times. The Watchers didn't win, but they gathered their forces and retreated.

They catch three prisoners. I don't recognize any of them.

* * *

The first one is a boy—he has to be older than he looks, because he looks barely eighteen. He has curly dark hair and golden eyes. But the thing I notice about him are the fact that his fingers don't stop moving. Nico stands in front of him, heavy coat blowing in the wind. "You, Eidolon," he says. "Where's Valdez's mind?"

"_We are not stupid," _it says in a cold voice—almost as if it was based off the Wraith's—"_we know enough to destroy them. No—loose—ends." _

Nico points his sword to the Eidolon's throat. "I don't believe you."

The Eidolon laughs. A humourless, icy laugh. "_An eye for an eye, a truth for a truth. Tell me where you got her from, and I'll tell you where the last hope of Valdez's mind is." _

He points at me.

* * *

Annabeth gripped Percy's hand for dear life. She could see blood running down his wrist with his other hand, but his left stayed slack. "Annabeth," he whispered. "Run."

"Are you _insane_?" she screamed. Percy's already pained face winced. He gave the ghost of a smile. "Maybe."

"No," she said. "Percy, I am _not _going anywhere. And there is _nothing _that will make me."

His half-half eyes looked up at her. She couldn't understand what she was seeing.

Then the world exploded.

* * *

Clyde stopped running at dusk. Tobias felt as worn out as if he were a punching bag in the Pit. There was a checkpoint coming up—Clyde had told him that they crossed the Gaos border a while back, so this had to be either Wester or Watcher. Tobias agreed they had to take their chances.

Clyde walked into the reception. Sitting at the desk was a man in black clothing. He had score marks up his right arm, and Clyde gave him the information that that was a Wester mark.

"How much for one night?" he asked gruffly.

The man looked at them with a sharp eye. "You don't look like a Wester."

"And you don't look like a straight guy."

_Clyde, that's just _wrong, _okay?_

The Wester narrowed his eyes. "Oh yeah? Go around with eyes like that—you'd give loads of people a run for their money."

"No I wouldn't," Clyde snapped. "Because I wouldn't give them their money anyway, and I don't want to be kept waiting. How much for _one night_?"

"Who'll be in the room?" the Wester asked.

"Me," Clyde told him. "Just the one, bozo."

The Wester snarled. "Three denarii and two drachmas."

_Where the hell am I meant to get that money? _Tobias prodded Clyde. Clyde swept him aside and dug out the coins. He tossed an extra drachma on the desk. "That's for no disruptions."

The Wester watched him as Clyde walked away. _Aren't you meant to get a room? _Tobias asked him.

"No, Wester motels are too violent. You find a room, and if someone else wants it or already has it you fight them for it."

. . . _violent. _

"Not really. That's more like a heated conversation to these people. You should see what their punishments are."

_How the hell do you know this stuff?_

"I wasn't born yesterday," Clyde snapped, opening a door to a room. "Actually, I wasn't 'born' at all, but the fact is I was _taught. _Gaos knows stuff. We have enough infiltrators all over the world to know exactly what's going on."

Clyde closed the door to the room. "Any more questions?"

_Why are you such a smart ass?_

"Because I am. Get used to it."

_No._

"Shut up."

_Make me._

_SHUT UP!_

_. . . no. _

"It's a real shame the machine didn't erase your mind, you know."

_Hell yeah. Now I have to share _my _body with _you. My _body—not yours, _mine. _Do you know how that feels?_

"No," Clyde said casually, opening a door and finding the room empty. "And that's the way I like it."

Tobias thought for a moment. It seemed that he had a better hold on staying alive now that they were out of the Gaos headquarters. Was it possible they had some sort of signal that tried to wipe minds?

"Yeah," Clyde said. "They do."

_That explains it. _Tobias went back to thinking. _Why did you save Tris? _He asked finally.

Once again, Clyde was reluctant to answer. "Why do you care?"

_Does that need explaining? _

"Look, I did you a favour—"

_AGAIN! How many favours do you have to do?_

"Shouldn't you be more grateful or something?"

_Suspicious more like it._

Clyde flung himself down on the bed. "Well, get stuffed, because I'm not going to tell you."

_Why not?_

"Because I don't want to, smart ass."

* * *

Percy hated the Wraith.

He freaking hated it.

The world exploded around him—the explosion was coming from _him_—and he was thrown onto his back. The world seemed to freeze—everything was travelling in slow motion—seriously. His and the Wraith's powers had collided with such a force that the world had trouble comprehending it—it had to slow down.

He saw Annabeth staring at him with wide eyes as she was thrown back in slow motion. Suddenly the Wraith attacked him again, this time trying a more isolated approach. Percy's head whipped around, giving him serious whiplash. The force of two souls fighting over a body was a painful thing. And it just sounded kind of wrong.

Percy felt his left hand warm—and as he glanced across he saw black inky vapours over his fingers. _Cheat, _he snapped at the Wraith.

And then there was another explosion—smaller than the first, and it caused everything to come back into proper speed. Percy tried to sit up, and when he felt no resistance from the Wraith he realised what he'd done.

He hadn't won. That was certain.

He swung himself onto his knees, and leaned forward, breathing heavily.

"Percy," Annabeth said. Percy couldn't place where she was, but he could hear her voice. That was a start. She'd hate him for all eternity after this, anyway.

He looked up. She was right in front of him. "Annabeth," he said. He managed to smile. His gut twisted into knots. This wouldn't last long.

"Annabeth, I don't have much time, so I have to explain it all to you right now."

* * *

"What do you want to know?" I ask it bluntly before anyone can say anything else. The Eidolon smiles. "_Where did you come from? You're not from here."_

"Chicago," I say before I can think.

"Tris," Nico murmurs. "This isn't the best time—"

"_Ah, the Experiment. The Final Hope. That turned out well, didn't it, _Nico_?" _

"Be quiet," Nico snaps. "You weren't part of that."

_"Oh, but I am. You haven't told her, have you? You haven't told any of them."_

"Told me what?" I pull out my knife instinctively. The Eidolon gave a laugh—a laugh with humour—a humour that he knew what it was, that it would cause me pain and he was going to _enjoy _it. "_Chicago was to take the mortals out of the war," _it began.

"Be quiet!" Nico yells. But the monster didn't stop.

_"Along with the mortals the wild cards of the demigods went in. The Seven. All except little Valdez here. And those other two that died. They hoped that they could resolve this by the time the video was out. Look how well that worked."_

"You should not be saying this!" Nico yells with such rage it causes me to shudder, but still the Eidolon goes on.

_"Legion of many, age is the key,_

_"Bound tight by time, half is one half the other,_

_"This is not any, hope in thee,_

_"She is the warrior sublime, reduced to ashes,_

_"Within the remains the order is made,_

_"Until it is all washed away . . ." _

Nico is even paler than usual. "You are seriously stupid."

"I told you about me. What about the guy's mind?" I recover faster than the others. The Eidolon looks at me. "_What is lost can only be found by those who already know where to look."_

* * *

"The Wraith was transmitting messages to Gaos when I held him out, so I did the same thing when he thought I was dead. That's how I got Nico over there."

"Did you do it? Did you beat him?"

"Annabeth, I can't," he said. "It is physically impossible. Do you know why we're alive? Because our souls made their own bodies. In this case, the soul _is _the body, and since I picked up the Wraith before I got here . . . I can't beat him. But he can beat me. Unless . . ."

Annabeth searched his half-half eyes. "This is my fault," she whispered.

"No, it's not!" Percy yelled. He hardly ever yelled, especially at Annabeth, and it shocked her. Maybe that's what he wanted. "It is not your fault, Annabeth. And it never will be, understand?"

"Percy, please don't—"

"Annabeth, I swear on the River Styx it isn't your fault. None of this is, okay? Now, the Wraith is going to be back in a moment, and there's only one way to beat him, and you'll hate it. So please listen to me."

Annabeth grabbed his hands. There was no way she was letting go of him ever again.

"Annabeth, this was never your fault," he told her again. "No matter what anyone says, I will never blame you, because you aren't to blame."

Annabeth didn't care right then. She wasn't going to let Percy lose to the Wraith. Never again. She kissed him.

* * *

Tobias didn't know if Clyde was having trouble sleeping or if he'd never done it in a human body before. Either way, he kept making Tobias wake up.

_Go to sleep, _Tobias groaned, maybe at 3am. But Clyde couldn't. "How the hell are you meant to sleep in these things?"

_What? The bed or the body?_

"Body."

_You close your eyes and try to . . . think about nothing. _

"How are you meant to do that?"

_Count sheep. _

"_WHAT?"_

Tobias sent him an image of a sheep jumping over a fence. And then another following it. And another, and another. _Just start counting them._

"That's just idiotic."

_It works. _

"Doesn't look like it."

_Well, if that doesn't work just start thinking and eventually you _should _fall asleep. _

"Is there an art to _staying _asleep?"

_There's sleeping pills, but other than that no. _

Clyde grumbled and rolled over. He stared out the window. Tobias waited for him to say something, but he didn't. He just kept staring idly out of the window. Tobias amused himself by thinking about what Tris was doing. She had to be alive—he knew that much. He'd know if she was dead. He'd feel it. He could imagine her small frame darting around a huge monster so fast they'd barely see her. Unless it was his imagination, Clyde smiled. Which is was Tobias was imagining himself doing.

He liked that about Tris. She was small and fast—like a bullet. She didn't look like much but could fight so well it gave him a run for his money.

_Run for his money, _he thought. _Wasn't that what Clyde had said? _

"Nice to know you're keeping me awake," Clyde muttered.

. . .

In the end they managed to fall asleep. For a few hours. When Tobias became conscious again, so did Clyde. It was strange, being in the same body. Clyde had all the controls and everything, and then Tobias—the owner of the body—had nothing.

Life can be a bitch sometimes.

Clyde woke up at 6, and from there they hit the road again, stumbling onto the highway.

The Blank was as humid as ever, and the sun stayed relentlessly in the arid sky. Tobias wondered how Clyde could possibly keep going when he felt this bad. But no matter his protests, Clyde kept moving.

Mile after mile passed. The sun moved from the east to the west of the sky. Tobias counted three motels he practically begged Clyde to stop at, but he didn't.

Not long after the sun had set, Clyde wandered into a motel. Tobias couldn't be bothered to read what it was called. Clyde tossed the man some coins and stumbled into an empty room. Clyde didn't have trouble falling asleep _that _night.

* * *

Of all the times to get kissed by Annabeth, he wouldn't have picked that as one of them. He would've liked to kiss her, apart from the fact he felt like he was going to be sick with holding back the Wraith. "Annabeth," he said, breaking away. Annabeth's steely eyes were on his face, analysing it, trying to figure out what he was going to say. "Annabeth, I am _so _sorry," he tried to make her understand how sorry he was. He hated the idea; he hated the _fact _of it . . . But it was the only way.

"Annabeth, the only way to destroy the Wraith is to bring him down with me."

* * *

**(A/N: I know that was a short POV but it had to be done, okay?) **

Odysseus was as I remembered it. Its huge grey walls, small windows, the feeling of security just being close to it. That was Odysseus. You'd never think that it could have been invaded.

They only invaded because they wanted people. They never cared about taking down the base.

The Eidolons had been grudgingly silent. People had been staring at my arms, reading the words burned into them. But they didn't say anything. They were afraid to.

When we walk through the gates, I can see the fake Tobias leaning against them. He doesn't say anything, but he watches me. I glare back at him, and as I go through the gates, I don't look back.

The Eidolons are put in one of the cells at Odysseus. The one that has inhabited 'Valdez's body has refused to say anything of the location of the demigods' mind. Through it all I don't know whether to be jealous of being a legion because nearly everyone is a demigod. The small amount of Divergent I had come with are nearly all gone. The few that remain look so much like they had never come from Chicago at all.

There are many things that I don't expect, and then there are many things that I _do _expect. This was not one of them.

That afternoon two guards come in, leading someone in between them.

It's Uriah.

* * *

_No._

That was all she could think. _No. _

"Annabeth, please—"

"_No," _she said. "No! No no no no NO NO NO NO!" She pulled out her knife and threw it into the ground. _"NO!"_

Percy grabbed her wrist, making her look at him. "Annabeth, if I don't do it now then it will kill me again and let me tell you, that will be the end of me."

_"No,_" Annabeth sobbed. "You can't."

"I don't want to," Percy said desperately. "Look, Annabeth, I don't know what will happen when I do this, but I swear to you and every god and every civilization and religion there is, I will get back. There's no way I'm staying dead. I won't."

"Percy, you can't do this!"

"It's this or the Wraith. Choose."

"_NO!" _Annabeth screamed. She refused to let him kill himself. She'd just got him back, and now he was going to die—he was going to kill himself—_he was going to leave her. _She jumped to her feet. "No. You can't die. You _can't._"

"I already have, Annabeth," he told her.

There was a huge blast and she was thrown backwards. The world went white and fuzzy. When it cleared, she had been thrown a good ten feet. She struggled to her elbows, and seeing Percy on his knees, gripping his head like it might split apart any second. "I'm so sorry, Annabeth."

"_NO!" _

"But this isn't a choice I can let you make."

And then the world went white.

And Annabeth . . . let go.

* * *

**...**

**Look, if you're in a rage and hate me for all eternity now, just remember this from the A/N of Chapter 16:**

**PERCY IS MY FAVORITE CHARACTER NEXT TO ANNABETH. I WOULD NEVER MAKE HIM DIE. I JUST TAKE HIM OUT FOR A WHILE TO GET SOME CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT TO THE OTHER GUYS. Savvy?**

**Consider him MIA. And yes, you can look forward to me bringing him back. I sure as heck am. **

**OKAY! Just, uh . . . telling you that BASICALLY gave away a whole chunk of plot . . . Anyway, last chapter I told you that the story splits into smaller individual stories of every POV - and I have got around to erasing Percy/Wraith's POV, so now we're down to three, which makes the plot start going. Now we get to the real, heavy-handed plot, not some prancing-pancy thingy-ma-bobby intro chapters, this is the full-out plot now. And SCREW ME IF PERCY ISN'T IN IT. Percy, Annabeth, Tris and Tobias are the major PEOPLE in the plot. So . . . look forward to Percy's return. **

**Please don't hate me. **

**Just a warning: this story's influenced by Doctor Who . . . so don't yell at me for a few references, okay? **

**Until the next chapter,**

**Please R&R,**

**-Owl**

**o0**

**HECK YEAH! SIGNATURE!**


	19. Chapter 19

**Hello, dear peoples!**

**It's your favorite insane person! YAY! **

**Now, I understand you all hate me or are trying really hard NOT to hate me but are having a hard time. So please, just go ahead and hate me. I don't want you people hurting yourself just so you don't hate me. What's life without being hated?**

***Email dings with 500 new hate-mails***

**Okay, let's move on, shall we?**

**Hell yeah! 10,000+ words! YEAH! And the funny thing is I was going to make this longer and I was like, 'no, let's end it on a cliffhanger!'**

**I can imagine some face-palms right now . . .**

**Heh-heh.**

**Review Replies:**

**LucyReywood: Well, you can stop trying not to and just hate me now. *grins* Aww! Thanks! C:**

**WaterandWisdom: Yes, Percy is DEFINITELY in it, just not at the moment. I won't tell you when he comes back, because I have this really dramatic scene planned . . . *evil smile***

**The Lazy Bookworm: okay, I shall explain it now:**

**In Divergent, Tris narrates from the first person present tense, so the only POV in this with first person present tense is Tris's, and so Annabeth has the third person and so does Tobias. The order's Tris; Annabeth; Tobias, over and over again. Make sense? I just don't put POV's in because they annoy me . . . sorry about that. And it's okay to hate me - you have to hate someone! Well, here is the update! YAY! **

**1Dlol: Yes, SAVVY! Savvy looks cool! LIKE BOWTIES AND FEZZES AND STUFF! FISH FINGERS AND CUSTARD! Okay, savvy does look strange but strange is cool! I love savvy! Yeah, I can see why you said that, though, because I wouldn't be savvy if I was reading this . . . well, try and stay . . . "sane" while reading this, okay? (AHA! NOT SAVVY!) Sorry, sorry . . . I just couldn't resist. Well, just try and stay the fangirl equivalent of sane, okay? Good. *cough* savvy *cough***

**MysticWishes: Well, I enjoy cliffhangers. I love making you people hate me, even if that is strange and abnormal and unhealthy . . . *shrugs* THANKS FOR THE REVIEW!**

**Anon: I ****_know! _****How cool is it?! Well, me and Cat are going to see the SoM so hopefully there'll be loads of yelling in the cinema about what they got wrong. Well, I'll try and be nice to them but I still hate the producers for what they did to TLT.**

**percypotter: Yes, yes I do. IT'S SO FUN MAKING HIM SUFFER! *evil laugh* I'm so sadistic, aren't I? Yes, he is coming back . . . after a while. Just think of it like every chapter is a step closer to him coming back, savvy? Sorry, that had to be done. I just love that word! Aw, thanks for that!**

**Onwards to the chapter! Huzzah!**

**(Why am I saying that? Cat, why have I been saying it since Thursday volleyball? WHY?!)**

**Um . . . warning? I was just looking over the plan and this story does get pretty violent and dark and stuff like that . . . pretty badly. What do you expect from the girl that reads 17-year-old Gothic fiction when she's only starting High School?! So . . . if you're squeamish . . . try to skip over some bits, okay? Thanks dudes.**

**Hmm. Something I have never said before and hopefully will never say again. RIGHTO!**

_**"I danced you farther than I would ever see, **_

_**"But then the king would not hear your plea from me,**_

**_"So please, it's time, break apart for me._****" - Anon.**

**DISCLAIMER: I. OWN. FREAKING. NOTHING. NOT EVEN THE TELEKINETICS, THAT'S CAT'S. I ONLY OWN THE PLOT.**

* * *

**_Chapter 19: Break Apart for Me_**

**They find Annabeth at nightfall. **

There is some sort of an explosion, and Annabeth was caught in it. Her arms, legs and face are covered in burns and cuts, and no matter what the doctors do, she doesn't wake up.

Her heart beats; and she breathes. But her eyes remain closed and all sign that she is still part of the living world is all but gone. Thalia sits next to the makeshift bed they've put her on in the makeshift hospital, after the medical wing was too jammed with injuries.

But Annabeth isn't hurt. She's too strong to be hurt. No, Annabeth has suffered something far worse. Something that caused her to lose the will to live.

Her heart broke.

* * *

**Pain. **That was the way Annabeth would describe it. A roaring, fiery pain that rose from her chest, suffocating her and clouding her mind. Through it all she could still see his face . . . his pained face, with his half-half eyes. Telling her that he was going to kill himself.

Why? Why did he have to do that? What _made _him do that? Why did she have to lose him? She could have got the Wraith out of his head. Of course she could. She was Annabeth Chase. She could do anything, couldn't she?

Anything except save the person she cared about most.

The pain flared up again, and Annabeth could barely think for a moment. There it was; the angry red blotch that clocked out everything else except the one thing she longed to forget. The fact that she had failed. That she was alone.

_Won through pain._

Screw that, Annabeth thought bitterly. _Doesn't matter anymore. They're all dead by now._

_I will try and get back._

To where? Why? By then she could be dead. By then she could be unrecognizable. Why should he be alive, anyway? How _could _he be alive in any way? He'd _blown himself up. _Annabeth knew that's what he had done, and he knew how he had done it. But thinking about it was too painful. Just thinking his name was painful. She couldn't think about him. From now on, he didn't exist.

_Beep._

Annabeth froze. Her bubble of pain froze too, frozen by her unquenchable curiosity. She encouraged it, trying to get away from the pain. She was always practical.

_Beep . . . beep . . ._

Of course. Heartbeat. She was alive. Was that meant to help her?

She felt her eyes move under her eyelids, slowly coming back to consciousness. She felt someone's hand wrapped around her knuckles, squeezing them to oblivion. She felt the papery sheets of a hospital bed. She inched an eye open, then slammed it shut from the bright lights.

"Annabeth," a voice said. Thalia. "Annabeth, girl! Yeah! Come on!"

_Shut up, _Annabeth wanted to say. If she wanted to wake up, then she'd need silence.

She pried open an eye again, and this time she saw the black-haired face above her—bright blue eyes twinkling. "She's awake! Guys! Get over here!"

Annabeth didn't want the noise. She didn't want people to care. Didn't it matter to them that P— that he was dead? Of course they wouldn't. They didn't know whether the Wraith had got him or if he had killed himself. They'd never believe the truth. They wouldn't _want _to. Just like Annabeth.

She opened her eyes, fighting the pain of the bright light. Faces crowded her field of vision. Thalia's pale silvery face with dark hair, Nico's olive skin, Tris's small face and watery blue eyes. There was one face missing. She refused to name it, though.

"Hey," she croaked. She didn't smile, her tone wasn't even light, but she said something. Everyone jumped. "Annabeth!" Thalia squealed, pulling her up into a feral hug. Annabeth winced as she crushed her chest. Even Tyson wasn't as painful.

She felt Nico pat her shoulder, heard Tris go and sit on the bed, crossing her legs. When Thalia let go, Annabeth had to remember to breathe. Tris studied her face. _He's gone, isn't he?_

Annabeth was so surprised to hear the thought that she jumped. Tris smirked. _Yeah, I know about your little gift. _Tris' face changed. _But he's really gone. _

Annabeth nodded slowly. Her face went white. Thalia looked at her. "Annabeth . . . what happened?" Annabeth knew that Thalia wasn't stupid. She just didn't want to believe the truth of the matter.

"He's dead," Annabeth croaked, feeling the tears well in her eyes. They slid down her cheeks. "Completely dead."

Thalia's hand clenched, her already pale skin went plaster pale. Her eyes went bright in shock. "Impossible."

"He killed himself," Annabeth went on, hugging her knees. "He died. And it's all my fault!"

"No, Annabeth, it's—"

"It is!" she screamed, jumping to her feet so that the bed swayed under her. "He's dead and gone and it was _all my fault!"_

Nico crossed his arms. "Percy can't be—"

"Dead!" Annabeth yelled at him. "He is! And he just—"

"Annabeth Chase, you listen to me _right now," _Nico walked forward, pointing a finger at her. "Percy may be dead, but if there's one thing I know is that it would never be your fault, and even if it was Percy wouldn't care! Percy may have died to save us—to save _you_—but he would never label it as your fault."

"Percy could lie."

"How dare you," Nico growled. "You would go against him like that. Do you have any idea how much he cared about you?"

"Enough to lie to me."

Nico clenched his jaw. "You're not right, Annabeth," he said. "Maybe most of the time you are and can be, but this time you're wrong. So wrong you're a disgrace to his name."

And he walked off.

* * *

**How long had they been walking? **Three days? Three weeks? How many motels had they crashed at? How many fights had they got into? How many times had Clyde saved them and Tobias done the same? In all honesty, Tobias was beyond caring.

Clyde was following the highway to San Francisco. Tobias could see the skyline of the city in the distance. He remembered what Chicago looked like—falling apart, the Hub, skyscrapers—San Francisco? No. San Francisco was basically _in the sky. _There wasn't a single small building in the place. And more than that, Tobias could smell something in the air. Something that made it . . . fresh.

"Don't tell me you've never seen the sea," Clyde said.

_No. The marsh is as far as I got._

Clyde laughed in shock. "Dude, the sea's, like . . . the sea. There's nothing like it. How can you not have seen it?"

_Because I was in a faction the whole time . . . ?_

"What? With that ridiculously small Chasm? You call that the sea?"

_It's dangerous. It's fast. You can't see where it ends._

"That's a _river. _The sea goes out into the horizon and you never know where it'll take you. It's this huge blue thing that goes out in front of you for ages and ages. You know how far we walked? That's like . . . a hundredth of the sea. Not to mention the sea can have waves as tall as those buildings you're looking at."

_Impossible. _

Clyde laughed. "Hardly. Now, when we get there, shut up and _don't make a sound." _

Tobias decided to annoy him. He didn't respond.

Clyde scowled and kept walking.

By nightfall they'd walked into the city limits, and Tobias could hardly believe how far and how . . . high-tech the place was. The skyscrapers stretched so far above him even when he craned his neck back he couldn't see the top. The glass along the walls of the towers glistened new and fresh, and the paved roads didn't have a single crack in them.

Still, among the alleys between the huge buildings gangs of men and woman hovered. They were all clothed in black, red or blue; and their weapons glimmered in their sheaths. If it was possible, they had even more tattoos and piercings than the Dauntless.

Clyde stopped at a fountain. Beyond it the city changed to marble buildings and domes and senate buildings. _This is the forum. The fountain marks the Pomerian Line. No weapons are allowed in here._

_How are they meant to know?_

_You don't want to know, trust me. Okay, let's just find a place to spend the night . . ._

_You mean you hadn't thought that far?_

_Be quiet. I'm in charge._

_Hardly!_

_Well, are you the one walking this way?_

_You bastard!_

_Not likely. _Clyde walked down the streets around the until he was back in the main city. He wandered down a dimly-lit alleyway. Tobias was yelling at him to get out of there before it was too late, but Clyde didn't understand. Of course he didn't. Eidolons don't pick fights with one another, do they?

"Hey, you—_tourist,_" came a cold voice. Clyde wheeled around. _Oh God . . . _Tobias muttered.

A shady figure stood at the end of the alley. Of course it just had to be a dead-end, didn't it? Behind the figure more people gathered, all equally menacing. "Do you need some directions? I can give you some."

_Don't say anything, _Tobias told him. _Be prepared to fight. They'll try to kill you anyway. _

"No," Clyde snarled. Tobias groaned. "And I'm not particularly sure what made you think I was a tourist anyway."

_We're dead._

The first person stepped forward, walking towards them. Tobias saw silver bands over his knuckles. No doubt they were studs design to beat the crap out of whoever felt them in action. "What have we got here? A smart-aleck? It's not good to be a smart-aleck."

_You should listen to him!_

"You can be a smart aleck if you're strong enough to fight off the idiots tat get annoyed with you."

_Why can't you shut up?!_

The boy snarled. He was taller than Tobias by half a foot, with dark hair and some serious muscles. Tobias doubted he could win this one. He doubted _Clyde, _who had never fought a human like this before could win this one.

"I think you're logic needs some clearing up," the boy snarled.

* * *

I punch the wall of my room. I lift my knee and slam it to the wall so hard I hear a faint crack. I shouldn't be so mad. I shouldn't. I don't even know why I am, but I just feel so . . . _angry. _

_The only out is to survive. The only way out is to fight. You can't lose this one, whatever you do. If you lose, you die. If you die, it's all over._

I hit the ground. Where had that come from? That wasn't me.

More surprising yet is the fact that I'm not angry anymore. Every ounce of anger has fled me. I feel normal. I feel neutral.

I press my palms to my face and try to think. I start with the casualties: Tobias, Percy, the Wraith, probably Alec . . . not to mention so much more. What am I going to do? I don't know. I lift my face off my hands and look at the messages burned into the skin of my arms. Curling silvery-white script; black around the edges. It looks so refined that it's like a proper tattoo.

_Seek the darkness that calls you home. _I scowl as I read it. No, I am not dark. I have no home left. I have been betrayed by my brother, my parents killed, the one person left I cared about killed and probably my city destroyed. I risked my life to get out of it. Now I wish I could turn back the clock.

Not to mention my best friend looks like she's a different person. Annabeth isn't the same. She has more . . . more anger in her eyes. The anger that wants to see the blood of their enemies run down onto the floor. One that wants to watch them die slowly and painfully. One that wants to hear their screams and pleads for mercy. An anger that the Wraith would be over-satisfied with. That's what he had wanted, wasn't it? He wanted her to break and crumble so much that there was no hope of her ever repairing. He was too clever. He was too cunning. He deserved to have died. He didn't deserve to have Percy go with him, though. Percy was too good for that.

Someone knocks on my door. I jump to my feet and pull it open. It's Thalia.

"Look," she says. "I wouldn't come unless it was absolutely urgent. I wouldn't even _think _about coming unless it was this bad. It's Annabeth. She needs someone other than me. Neither of us are what we used to be. We need your help."

"What makes you think that I'm what I used to be either?"

"Nothing," Thalia snaps. "I _know _you're not the same girl that jumped off the railing in Homer. I know you're not the same girl that was kidnapped from here a few weeks back. But that doesn't mean anything. Because as far as I know, there are things that matter and things that don't. And at the moment what matters is that you go and talk to Annabeth. She cares what you think more than what I do. And that's what I expected."

Thalia leads me through the corridors, to a new room where I know Annabeth is staying. When she opens the door, I see Annabeth huddled on the corner of the bed, pressed against the wall. She looks up at me, with such intensity in her grey eyes that I have to look away. It's as if they've been split down the middle, and from that crack all the darkness is seeping out of her into the real world.

"Tris," she says sharply. A greeting. I hadn't expected any more than that. Her hair has been combed back into a tight French braid, keeping every single hair off her face. She wears an Abnegation-grey t-shirt with jeans. Her feet are bare.

"Annabeth," I reply with equal sharpness. Her eyebrows shoot up, and she regards me with curiosity. Maybe she doesn't mean it, but there is clear hostility in her eyes. She nods in acknowledgement. Thalia leans against the doorframe behind me. "Well, if you two are—"

"Not killing each other," Annabeth finishes. Thalia crosses her arms. "Nice to know you still have you still have manners."

"They died," Annabeth says coldly. "Along with many other things."

"Just because you're—"

"You don't get it, do you?" Annabeth's eyes are full of anger again. "You don't get _anything_!"

"No, Annabeth," Thalia says darkly. "I get plenty of things. I watched Jason _die. _I watched them all die. I led them to their deaths. You think you have it bad? When you're Immortal, you stay young and everyone else grows out and dies. _You _don't get anything."

Thalia slams the door behind me, plunging me into darkness. Annabeth waves a hand at the lam and it turns on, casting the room in a faint yellow light. "Thalia was always a bit moody," Annabeth says softly, pulling her knees to her chest.

I lean back against the closed door. "She has a point, you know."

"I know," Annabeth says. "I just don't care."

"That's not right."

"No, it isn't," Annabeth sounds distant, as if she were watching something fly away. "And it never is. I'm not right, this world isn't right; Thalia's not right—for all I know _you're _not right."

"No, that's a certainty," I answer. "I'm definitely not right."

Annabeth puts her head against the wall, looking up at the ceiling. "Remember when I told you back when we were being tortured by Gaos that I wanted revenge?"

"Yeah." How could I forget? The day she began to crack.

Annabeth let out a shuddering breath. "You have no idea how much I want revenge now. They _took _him from me."

"Annabeth, the Wraith did."

"No," Annabeth looks back at me; her hostile grey eyes as hard as steel in the pale light. "Maybe he did, and I can't get him. But I can get the people and monsters he used. He had planned how to win long before P— _he _knew, and those monsters he sent in had been specially trained. I can go after them. Maybe that will make it worthwhile."

"You'd risk your life just for revenge?"

"Define what kind of revenge I want, then."

"You want them dead."

"No," Annabeth jaw is tight, spitting out the words through her teeth. "I want to make them feel what I felt when I woke up. When he told me what he was going to do. That I _knew _there was nothing to be done, to stop him from getting destroyed. I want to see them in pain. I want them to make them know that they messed with the wrong person."

"You want them to feel the pain you did."

"I want them to bleed," Annabeth doesn't sound like Annabeth anymore. "I can't describe what I want them to feel. I just want to be able to look into their eyes and watch them beg for death."

* * *

_Bam. _Annabeth slammed her head back against the wall. _Bam._

"You should really stop doing that," Tris told her. She'd moved from the door to come and sit on the other side of the bed. Her ratty shoes were tossed onto the ground. Annabeth found it interesting that a girl that was so small could endure so much. Annabeth had a great deal of respect for the girl.

"I know," she said. "But I don't care."

"You don't care about anything anymore."

"Correct," she said. "You're a fast learner."

"Some things you don't want to learn."

Annabeth studied Tris's face. Tris didn't look happy. More than that she looked . . . disappointed. Annabeth tried to hear what she was thinking, but something stopped her. She didn't want to know what Tris was thinking. What if she didn't like it and lost it at her? What if it ended with one of them dead?

Another person gone, Annabeth thought. Annabeth twirled the hem of her jeans in her fingers. "Do you think about him often?" she asked Tris, her thoughts drifting. "I mean . . . not . . . before, just—"

"You mean Tobias?" Annabeth couldn't believe she could still say his name. She could barely think about P— him. The only way to go on was forget, and Annabeth was trying so hard.

"Yeah. Him."

"Yes, I do . . ." Tris looked out across the room. The lamplight danced off her slim face, highlighting her hollow cheekbones and bags under her eyes. "I just . . . I don't know why, but I hallucinate him, talking to me. Usually I argue with him. But . . . when we were in Gaos, he threw me the small pocket knife that I got Eric with . . . and I actually _have _it."

She reached into her pocket and pulled out a tiny knife. "They disarmed us when they locked us in, so why do I have it?"

Annabeth instinctively reached down her side for her dagger, only to find that it wasn't there. She'd dropped it when— _before. _And they hadn't thought to take it. With her luck it was probably incinerated. She felt a pang in her chest. If she didn't deserve to lose _one _thing—she had lost _everything _else—it was her knife. That was all she asked for, and she didn't have it.

Annabeth didn't know what to make of her claim. The answer seemed to be there—tugging at the back of her mind like a bug, but she couldn't reach it. These fitted into something, she _knew, _but she didn't know what that was.

She swallowed. "I need to go see Nico."

"What—?"

"You can stay here. This is something between me and him, and it has to be settled _now_."

* * *

The boy's swing was fast. Tobias barely had time to brace himself as Clyde ducked in a futile attempt to dodge. He failed, of course, and the studded knuckle-busters caught him in the side and sent him hurtling backwards.

_You . . . idiot! _Tobias gasped through the pain. _You block, not dodge._

_You try and fight him then!_

_Let me!_

If Clyde was trying to let him, it wasn't doing anything. The boy advanced again. "It's like they always say, 'don't dish it out if you can't get it back.'"

"That's not how the saying goes," Clyde grunted. Tobias braced himself for the impact of the hit, lying flat on his back and looking up at his soon-to-be killer.

He wanted to get off the ground. _Get up! _He yelled at Clyde. Clyde grunted, but he couldn't move his legs. Tobias felt his panic rising. How could he have lost his legs? He was wriggling his toes, right? That's what he was feeling, yeah?

. . . wriggling his toes?

"Dude how are you doing that?" Clyde yelled, not before he was punched in the mouth so hard his head slammed back against the ground. Tobias curled his legs under him and got to his feet, swaying. _What's going on?_

_No idea!_

_That's helpful._

_What should I do?_

_Let me have control._

_Tried that._

The boy's fist was coming at him again. Tobias mentally swallowed. _Let your arms go slack._

He felt Clyde's arms go as slack and listless as dead ropes. Tobias wriggled his fingers. This was the life.

As the fist hurtled towards him, he caught it in front of his face. The boy's face whitened. _Okay, now say this, _he told Clyde.

"You know you should be more careful as who you pick as an idiot."

He threw his fist into the boy's face, before kicking him in the chest. He felt the stiffness in his chest from Clyde's refusal to let go of control. _Come on! I'm saving your butt!_

_If I let you in I'll never get you out._

_Then what are you meant to do?_

_You have to tell me what to do!_

Tobias groaned as he heard Clyde's stubbornness. As the boy came at him again he sent him almost a video of what he wanted to do—what he planned to do.

Clyde agreed.

The boy came at him, bent low with a knife clutched in his fist. Tobias slammed his forearms into the boy's head and then kicked him savagely in the chest with his knee. As he fell back Tobias kicked him in the chin, throwing him back.

He looked up at the other kids. He told Clyde what to say.

"Next person? Come on, I'm just getting warmed up."

Of course that meant that the rest of them then charged. _Idiot, _Clyde groaned.

* * *

Walking through Odysseus is hard for me. Everywhere I step someone points at me and whispers something to someone else. I edge past two very 'busy' people against the wall of the corridor, walking to the kitchens. Maybe they have chocolate cake there.

Someone grabs my arm, and I whirl around, fist raised to punch. The face looking down at me I don't recognise. Dark blonde hair and dark blue eyes. "Yes?" I snap. The boy lets go and backs away. "Come to stare at the zoo exhibit, have we?" I scowl and turn away, pulling at the sleeves of my top to cover my arms and yanking up my collar. But people still look at me—the skinny girl with bruises and burns and cuts, hair that's been ripped out of her scalp.

I walk into the kitchen and find no chocolate cake, so I settle for coffee. I take the cup and walk down some corridors I haven't been down yet. The corridor I find myself in has pictures along the walls. '2044 Skirmish Survivors' says one, with a picture of five people in the frame. I recognise Nico, looking exactly the same, but that's it. One of the men has the same eyes as Thalia, except he has blond hair. There's a woman next to him—caramel-brown skin with dark hair. Next to her is a slightly younger-looking woman with darker skin, unruly curly hair and golden eyes. Next to her is a bulky man with a clipped haircut. And then the last person, next to the blond is Valdez.

"Those were the remains of the Seven, years later," a voice says from behind me. I spin around so fast I slam into the wall behind me. Thalia stands, looking at the picture. I notice none of the people are smiling. "The tall blond one's Jason, then next to him is Piper, then the smaller girl is Hazel, and the guy next to her is Frank." Thalia pauses. "And you already know Leo's face."

"Jason as in—"

"Yeah," she says sadly. "My brother, your great-great grandfather, and then next to him is your great-great grandmother. Hazel and Frank went into Chicago. Nico stayed out here with Leo, Jason was killed a week after this was taken, and Piper died of a broken heart two days after." Thalia looks back at me. "They were great people, these guys. Annabeth and Percy's best friends. Before they fell into Tartarus they . . . well, at the Doors of Death they wouldn't go through. No one except Nico knew what they meant at the time. They all figured it out three days later, when the fighting started."

"What happened to . . . Leo?"

"He stayed out here. Until a few months back he was the head technician, head of weapons. He was a genius. Then he went out on a routine survey of the border, to try out some new tech. They were ambushed, and when Leo was about to hit the button, he was hit. One of the other guys didn't know how to work it. Pressed the wrong button and killed everyone else. He survived; a small group of guys went looking after Leo didn't come back. We thought he was dead. This is worse."

"What happened to the other guy that hit the button?"

"Committed suicide three weeks later."

"You have many of them out here?"

"Heck yeah," Thalia says. She runs her fingers over the picture. "He died of shame, apparently. We all knew it was a matter of time before he did. We all expected it."

"Then why didn't you stop him?"

"What good would it do? He was dying from within. He blamed himself for killing the rest of the group. He wanted to die with some tiny shred of honour, stupid kid. She he went and hurled himself off the roof. No one ever found a body, though. That's what we don't understand. Well, not _here, _anyway."

I lean against the far wall. "Please explain what you mean. I don't understand."

"You're really too young for this."

"Try me."

Thalia sighs. "We found him at the border. Almost ripped in two. He was a good kid. I remember him. Shy little thing. Always accepting the blame. No wonder that was how he died."

I wipe my eyes, surprised to find them wet. "How did Jason die?"

Thalia goes rigid. Then she lets out a rattling breath. "A skirmish at the border. Ambrosia and Nectar explosives. Demigods on both sides. Summoned a lightning to try and freeze the fighting. He used up all his energy doing that, but it didn't matter to anyone," Thalia wiped her eyes. "He caught the end of two hellhounds. I was there. I was screaming at him to see . . . but he didn't. Of course he didn't." Thalia gave a sad smile. "Smug-for-brains."

I look up and down the wall. "What are these?"

"Well," Thalia says shakily, holding back tears. "This end's the most recent. Down the end are the ancient ones from the camps."

"Let's go for something not so depressing, eh?" I start walking down the hall, followed by Thalia. I stop at the very end. There's a small picture of two people. Huge grins, and the boy has his arm over the girl's shoulder. I don't recognise them. "Who's this?"

Thalia doesn't looked shocked. She just looks so _sad. _"I didn't expect you do recognise them," she says. "That's Annabeth and Percy. One hundred years ago."

* * *

"Nico di Angelo you have to tell me this _right now!_" Annabeth threw open the door to Nico's 'office'. He was standing at a small window, looking out onto the Blank beyond. "Get out," he growled.

Annabeth jumped on the table. "Make me, Death Boy!"

He turned towards her slowly. "Get off my table."

"Like I said: make me."

"What do you want?" he snapped. Annabeth crossed her arms. "If there's one thing you owe me, it's the truth."

"I don't own you _anything_."

"You owe me this!"

"Fine!" Nico yelled. "Get off my table and I will _consider _telling you."

Annabeth jumped off the table. Nico sat down on his chair. "The truth of what?"

"This," Annabeth pointed at the ground. "This freaking war! What happened when me and Percy died? Huh? Why is the world so . . . _broken_?"

"You know what happened the last time the Romans and the Greeks collided? War. You know what happened after you two died? War. Gaea was worn away with the rest of the gods. The giants lost. They were wiped away by the force of the war. There was nothing left. The war began to wear away at the very ground, until there was nothing left apart from the flat land across the whole country. Then the grass grew, and that was it. When the fighting died down a bit the monsters came back. Just the monsters. And it became a three-sided war. The gods have long faded away. We're alone."

"Explain more."

"When you and Percy died at the Doors of Death, we came back to Camp Half-Blood in an attempt to stop the Romans attacking. They saw that Percy and you were missing, and whatever trust they had in the Greeks died. They attacked. They blamed the Greeks for the death of you two, that this was what Gaea needed to win. And the war started, and the gods were useless. They didn't lift a _finger _to help us. Too busy with their two-faced problems. Gaea tried to rise and was forced under, worn away and forgotten. The giants died from the force of it all and the gods were forgotten because they were no use at all. Olympus ceased to exist."

"This is all because two sides fought?"

"You have no idea."

Annabeth fell back into the chair. "And everyone died . . . because of that?"

"Yes," Nico leaned forward on the table. "Jason ended up dead in a skirmish, Piper died of a broken heart a few days later. Hazel and Frank went into Chicago, Leo and I stayed behind. Even Drew got killed, no matter how good she was."

"Drew was a fighter?"

Nico shrugged. "She could use that whip pretty damn well."

"That makes sense."

Nico rubbed his eyes. "In the end it never is how many people die. It's how you knew them that matters. It's how you _remember _them. People die all the time, why should a few more matter? You can't forget things, Annabeth. It never makes them better. It makes them worse. Look at the gods—we forgot about them because we knew they were never going to come and help us. We forgot them, and they forgot themselves. And now they're gone."

"That never makes it easier."

"Since when did you care about easy? Was Tartarus easy? Was going on every day in your horrible life easy? Was it easy to watch him tell you that he was going to die?"

Annabeth didn't feel her anger then. She felt herself collapse inwards. A tear rolled down her face. "No. It wasn't."

Nico's face softened. "Forgetting doesn't help."

"How do you know?" she cried. "You're not me!"

"No," he said sharply. "I'm not. And for once in my life I'm glad I'm not."

Annabeth froze. The comment caught her off guard. The Nico he knew and remembered wouldn't have dared say that to her. Maybe that's why she had felt something strange when talking to him. He was talking to her in a way he had never dared to before. He wasn't the same Nico she'd left behind.

Annabeth stared blankly back at him. Her mouth couldn't seem to form words any better than her mind. Nico frowned. "How do you think you'd feel if you were trying to be forgotten by the person you cared about most? The people you trusted most? How do you think you'd feel?"

Annabeth got up. "I know how they feel. It doesn't take a genius to figure out how many people tried to forget me, di Angelo."

She left the room.

* * *

Tobias lost track of time. He was thinking of what to do rather than instinct, trying to tell Clyde what he needed to do. It was working, but for how long Tobias didn't know.

Everything blended into a huge blur of movement, fists and feet and knives and guns. So far he was winning.

There were moans coming from the ground, people grabbing at his ankles as he swung and punched. Tobias expected the gun, he really did. He felt the barrel press against his forehead, and he froze. The person holding the gun froze too. Tobias wondered why he hadn't fired.

The boy stumbled forward, and fell flat on his face. There was a knife in his back.

Behind him stood a man. Maybe thirty. He was wearing a denim vest over a black t-shirt with torn jeans and boots. He shoved his hand back in his pocket. "Nobody move," he said. "Or you'll end up like this guy here."

"Screech? I don't believe it!" the boy who had started the fight chewed a finger. "What are you doing here?"

"What I always to, crap-face," 'Screech' snarled. "Now, was this kid the only one fighting you idiots."

"Well—"

"Yes or no, because I have a belt full of knives, mate."

"Yes," the boy said. Screech straightened in satisfaction. "Well, kid, you got a job?"

_No, _Tobias told Clyde. _Say no!_

"No," Clyde said as confidently as he could manage. Though the light was behind Screech, and Tobias could only see just see his face, he could tell the man was smiling. "Well then, welcome to the trade. Accept now or never, because this job isn't ever offered twice."

"I'll take it," Clyde said immediately. Screech pulled his hands from his pocket and beckoned him forward, turning to look up the road. "Come on, then. There's a motel and pub not far from here. We can talk business there."

"Screech, are you _actually_—"

"Zip it," Screech snapped. "Or I'll do it for you."

The boy swallowed. The gang of kids backed away into the shadows of the alley. Clyde walked forward, and Tobias realised that he was back in control. No more moving legs, Tobias thought bitterly. Of course, when Clyde needs saving he gets a small amount of control but when he needs help no help comes. Typical.

Clyde followed Screech's brisk and silent steps as they rounded the corner and found themselves in another alley. Screech opened a black door towards the front of alley, and a orange light spilled through the door, letting Tobias see the man's face for the first time.

Across the left of his face were twelve different symbols—Tobias didn't recognise most of them, but there was a trident, an eagle, two bloody spears. They had to be the symbols of the Roman gods, then.

His face was pitted with scars, and about ten different piercings were stuck around his right nostril. The man's lips looked so haggard Tobias figured that's why he had to be called Screech. They looked like they screeched, alright.

His head was shaved back, but there was a pale fuzz over his skull that Tobias immediately pegged as a military haircut of some sort. He opened the door. "It's rude to stare, flyboy."

Tobias looked away and walked into the pub, plunging into the drunken moans and roars of drinking men. Screech led him down to the darkest corner of the pub. He pulled out a chair and sat down on it, twirling one of his nose piercings. "You don't know who I am, do you?"

"No," Clyde said. Tobias was buzzing with nervous energy. He could feel Clyde's adrenaline going.

"Well," Screech said, tipping his chair so it balanced on two legs and leaned against the wall behind him. "I'm the guy that's in charge of most of San Francisco gangland. You know what that means?"

"Yeah," Clyde swallowed. Tobias froze. Impossible.

"What I ask of my employees is to do what I want, when I want," Screech went on. "As for you, well, after you handled that fight I had you pegged as a hit-man. There are people out there that I don't want. You go get 'em and bring them back. Got that?"

"How much pay?"

Screech laughed. It was such a loud an dark laugh that Tobias winced. "Kid, you work for me and no one ever dares go near you again."

"That's all you can offer? Seriously?"

Screech pulled out a knife so quickly Tobias took a moment to process it. "Think of it this way: people know who's in charge and guess who I'll come looking for? Besides, this pub here will give you free stuff. What's afraid of you is yours to control. Remember that, kid."

Clyde fingered the edge of the table. "When do you expect me to work?"

Screech grinned. "Now you're talking."

* * *

_I've been putting this off for too long, _I think as I walk down the hall to the detention blocks. Uriah showed up last night, I saw him being dragged in, I have to talk to him. Either that or he's sent off to the border tomorrow morning. I can't allow one more person to be taken from me. Not again.

I stop in front of cell E4. I press in the code I've been told—2118918—Uriah's name in letters.

The door handle glows green and I pull it down, before pushing the door open. As I do there's a loud noise. I react before I can realise. Pulling the door shut behind me and kicking the attacker away. Uriah stumbles back, dropping the chair he's been holding. "Sit down," I growl at him. Uriah stands the chair upright and sits down again.

"You're not in Dauntless anymore, so expect changes from here on in."

"Tris?" he asks, bewildered. I cross my arms. "Caught on, have we? Yes, this is what you look like after you've been tortured. Get the picture? Now, the real world is a lot worse than Dauntless. Make one mistake and you're killed, Uriah. Driven off to the Gaos border and that's the last we'll ever hear of you. So get with it."

"Where's everyone else? The Divergent—Tobias?"

"The Divergent are all but dead and the few remaining are some of the Watchers now. Tobias was killed a few weeks back. Anything else?"

"Tobias—is dead?" Uriah's eyes are wide and blank. Stage one: denial. Stage two: pain. From there on it's just pain, pain and more pain. Until you snap, and the pain isn't yours anymore.

"Yes, he is," I cut off the subject before he can bring it up again. "And if you ask one more time—"

"No, no," he says. He brings his knees to his chest. "I just didn't think . . ."

"No, you didn't," I tell him angrily. "And neither did he. Now let's move on."

"What about the other ones—the freaky Divergent. Anna something."

"Percy's dead and Annabeth was almost driven insane. Anything else?"

Uriah looks like he's desperate to ask more questions, but he holds them back. "What can I do to get out of here?"

"Firstly you have to have a trial with Nico," I start. "And then if he thinks you're sane and not an infiltrator from the West then you can start training. Apart from that nothing."

"So I'm stuck here"

"Yes," I tell him. "And if you want to make a good impression, don't try and kill the next guard that comes in."

"What happened to you, Tris?" Uriah asks as I turn to leave. I grip the handle tightly. I don't want to answer, but at the same time my mouth is forcing the words out. "Tobias is dead. My friends are dead. The life I knew—dead and gone. I had to change to survive. And I was tortured by Gaos. Sadistic bastards. But nothing is as bad as the fact that he was taken from me. And _no one _knows what that's like. Even Annabeth. Percy killed himself. He left her. That's different."

The handle glows blue and I pull the door open. I don't look back at him. As the door closes behind me the handle glows red and then the bolts slide shut. I start walking down the hall again. There has to be something out there. Something out there moving us around, giving and taking like some huge sick game.

* * *

_Being a spy had always been hard. Clinging to the roof tiles and listening to the voices in the attic was hard. Snow had started falling, making the tiles slippery and almost impossible to hold on to. His fingers were going numb. _

_". . . can't let them know what we plan," said a voice. "We have to take utmost caution."_

_"They aren't stupid, and you know that," said another voice, harsher. "They'll have spies listening in already." _

_Dread gathered in his stomach. He swallowed. They weren't stupid, either. Well, widely speaking. They just didn't realise that it was _him _on the mission. Of course he had been picked. Who better to listen in on their war tactics?_

_A segment in the roof slid back, letting a man on a circular platform rise to the roof. "Well, well, well, it seems I was right—as per usual." Of course, they couldn't see his face. He gripped the ledge he was holding tighter, sending pins and needles up his numb fingers. A light shone out from the man's hand. _

_Fear ran over his fingers like a waterfall. First his eyes succumbed to the terror; then his mouth set in a line. The colour drained from his face. "Evacuate!" he screamed. "Run!"_

_No one ever escaped him. That was sure._

Annabeth opened her eyes. Her face was buried in the pillow. Faint details of the dream tugged at the back of her mind, but she couldn't remember it in detail. Just the sort of vague idea.

She struggled to remember, but it had escaped her. She muttered a curse. She hated forgetting things. She _never _forgot things.

There went that.

She reached down to her belt, once again expecting to feel her dagger in her hand, but it wasn't there. For all she knew it was destroyed. She sat up. Immediately the pain flared up in her chest like a bubble of lava. She pushed it aside and shoved her feet in her shoes, before leaving the room.

Revenge was on her mind. It had been for hours. She walked down to the computer labs. She didn't care about codes, it took a second to decode things. She hardly realised when she was scrolling through digital records of names and places that she'd already hacked into the system.

She was looking for some answers. She scrolled through a document labelled 'recent attacks'. At the top was a link saying 'kill-and-flee brigade'. Annabeth clicked on it and it brought her to a page full of names. She read through a few. They were all human names, but they were for monsters. Next to them were addresses, acquaintances, places they were due to be.

Annabeth grinned as she found what she was looking for. A few of the monsters from the Kill-and-Flee Brigade were going on a raid to get some Watcher supplies in a few days. There was already a force set up to stop them, but Annabeth knew that they weren't that stupid. They gave off fake information. It had had weeks spent on it being decoded, but Annabeth knew they were lying. There was a group coming from the North-West, but the Kill-and-Flees were coming from the North, bypassing the force set up and still leaving with the supplies.

Annabeth wasn't that stupid. She was going after them.

* * *

Clyde's first day on the job was the easiest. Tobias should have seen it coming.

_I want you to go after this guy, _Screech had said, shoving a photo of a dark-haired man at him. Clyde inspected it, and Tobias inspected the things Clyde ran over. There wasn't much to recognize him by—except the huge scar across the right side of his face that went under his jaw.

_"What do I do with him?" Clyde asked. Screech chewed on a fingernail. "Bring him to my place. Down the end of this alley. That's all you gotta do. The rest is my job—you got that?" _

Clyde had got that. So there they stood, outside the flashy casino, watching the men stream out of it. He was waiting for the guy—Dan something-a-rather. Until the guy showed, Clyde and Tobias would have to wait.

Three hours later, the sun was completely gone and the bright lights of the casino came on, along with the rest of the city. Most likely no one would see him get Dan something, and that would be the end of it.

Clyde watched the people coming out—there! A skinny man that looked all skin and bones came out of the casino, looking miserable. His hands were shoved in his pockets and he was looking around anxiously. A silvery scar glistened on his face.

Clyde crept towards the man, balling his fists. Tobias hated this job. How long before Clyde would—?

It took only a few punches to knock the man senseless. Clyde hefted him over his shoulder and started walking through the alleys. Tobias was disgusted. _I hate you, _he muttered.

_Glad to see we understand each other, _Clyde replied.

* * *

Annabeth is packing when I walk by, two days later. She shoves some gleaming objects I can't see properly into a bag along with some bottles of water.

"Going somewhere?"

She doesn't spin around in shock, or jump, or appear startled at all. "Yes, I am. And I don't expect you to come with me."

"And why is that?" I don't know what to think, I don't know what to make of it all. Annabeth is going, and I will be left behind, and she may never come back.

"Oh for the gods' sake if you want to come then come. Just don't expect to stay alive."

I finger the small pocket knife in my pocket. "And you'll need more than just that knife. Get some more stuff. Some more guns and knives—and what about that Scimitar of yours? Isn't that important?"

"It was taken by Gaos."

Annabeth pauses. Then she zips up the bag and slings it over her shoulder. "Just have another look. Something tells me it wasn't."

As Annabeth asks, I go down to the armoury and get some more weapons and ammunition. I wander down into the sword part of the room, and stop as I see my scimitar sitting on the rack. I wrap my hand around its leather hilt and feel that it's still warm, as if I had just let go.

"Found it again, I see."

I spin around, and Nico's standing there, watching me. I thank God that I stuffed the weapons into the bag Annabeth tossed me that was meant to conceal the objects in it. It looks too small to hold anything. Nico walks up to me and holds out his hand. I give the scimitar to him. "Who gave you the right to take this?"

"Back when I was here the first time, Alec—"

"Ah," Nico says. "I guess he was wary when he first gave this to you?"

"Yeah, he—"

Nico puts the sword back on the rack. "That's because he should be. That weapon is maybe the only one that has had a story as bad as Percy's old sword."

I watch him walk away. "Why was it warm in my hand, then?" I ask him. Nico stops. He turns slowly, dark eyes wide. "What did you say?"

"When I picked it up, it was warm."

Nico swallows. "I knew it would happen sooner or later," he mutters. His eyes lock with mine. "That sword is the only remaining weapon that has the ability to choose its user."

"What does that mean?"

"It means," Nico says, taking a step towards me. "That that sword will be bound to you and only you for the rest of your life. It won't work properly for anyone else, I guess you could say. It will only reach its full potential with you."

"I don't even know how to use the thing."

"You hold onto it, make sure it stays in your hand, and swing it like a maniac."

"Thanks," I mutter. Nico shrugs. "Another thing about that sword—it isn't what you think it is. Just because you have good intentions with it doesn't mean it always had someone with intentions like that holding its hilt."

Before I can ask anything else, he turns and walks away.

* * *

Tris came back not long after. Annabeth began to plot how they would go about this. They decided to leave that night, when most people would be asleep. Annabeth thought there may be a way to appear invisible to the guards and cameras. Annabeth hoped there was—if her calculations were right, then it was entirely possible that they could get out unseen.

Annabeth waited as the hours ticked by, talking to Tris. They talked mainly about sword techniques, but then Tris moved onto a different subject.

"You knew him, didn't you? Jason—and Piper."

Annabeh sighed. "Yes, I knew them. They were great people."

"How did they die?"

Annabeth looked into Tris's pale blue eyes. It was wrong to go into someone else's mind that was so close to her—that was her friend, but Annabeth did. Through Tris's eyes she saw all the things she had, the picture on the wall of the remaining Seven, the things Tris had been told. Annabeth didn't want to see anymore. A sense of dread settled over Annabeth when she looked into Tris's mind, like it shouldn't be looked into.

She sat back against the wall. "Jason was a great guy. There was a reason he was praetor of Camp Jupiter, a reason Hera picked him to be swapped with Percy. They were so similar and yet completely different. Jason fought with a _gladius, _a short golden sword, and _boy _could he fight with it. He would have gone through Tartarus a thousand times if he knew it was the right thing to do, just like P— like him. It's a shame to have lost him."

"You must have known him well," Tris says, slightly wistful. Annabeth couldn't help but study the girl's face. The wounds from her weeks of being tortured were healing, only faint scars. The hair that had been ripped out was growing back in fuzzy tufts. Her cheeks were less hollow and her eyes looked fuller.

"Well, during the time _he _was missing Jason and I became quite good friends. When he wasn't off with Piper I was asking about Camp Jupiter, not to mention working with Leo in the _Argo II. _That was a beautiful ship. I think it got blown up in the earlier times in the war."

"What about Piper?"

Annabeth looked up at the ceiling. "Piper McLean, the Daughter of Aphrodite. Wielder ofKatoptris. She was brilliant, quite frankly. Clever at the best of times. Charmspeaker. Gave Drew a run for her money. She even managed to survive Jason and . . . him fight. Not really, they were possessed, but I doubt I could have survived something that strong."

Tris gave a small smile. "Who's this 'Valdez' guy?"

"Ah, Leo," Annabeth said. "Little Leo Valdez, I mean, the skinny kid that was constantly hyper. He could summon fire, so he was someone to be careful of in the best of times. I mean, when he got excited—let's have some fire!—when he got depressed—how about some fire?—so yeah. He was a good kid, though. Deciphered the ArchimedesSphere. Wasn't much of a liar, so he told the truth. I'm not sure what happened, really, other than he went on a raid and got caught. If Gaos got his mind . . . I mean, all the genius on his mind . . . then we're stuffed."

"Was he smarter than you?"

Annabeth laughed. She laughed so hard that her stomach ached. "In a way he was, and in a way I was far superior. I mean, he had an engineer's brain, and I had . . . well, I just think a lot. I wanted to be an architect back then. I'm more warrior smarts and he's more . . . brainy smarts, I guess you could say."

"I thought you were brainy smarts," Tris was grinning. "Not to mention the freaky smarts and can-invade-your-mind smarts and move things around without touching them smarts."

Annabeth snorted. "Thanks for your high opinion of me, but I'm not half of those things."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yes," Annabeth snapped. "You shouldn't overestimate me."

Tris looks away. "I thought as much."

* * *

Tobias had figured out Clyde was probably Screech's favourite employee. To Clyde, going and capturing someone was easy for the Eidolon. Tobias had expected as much; human bodies just needed to have the mind taken out and then they were perfect in the thing's opinion. Tobias had developed a skill of tuning out, unless someone punched him in the . . . painful spots. He was still mad at Clyde over the last blow that had been landed. An especially painful blow that caused an outbreak of swears.

How many men had Screech sent him after? Tobias lost count, and it was no use asking Clyde because he was just . . . annoying. Despite that, Tobias couldn't bring himself to hate Clyde. Maybe at first he had, but as they spent more time in the same body, Tobias began to understand the Eidolon a bit better.

Gaos had been breeding the spirits for centuries. Ever since Kronos (who Tobias still didn't quite understand the details of) had risen, they had started refining the Eidolon structure. They had many attempts and many fails. They tried to make the Eidolons more empathetic, to hopefully get a greater grip on the host's skills, but that made them think too much like the host's old mind and they all had to be killed before they could be let loose.

Then there were the ones that weren't empathetic enough—they thought so much like an Eidolon that they thought the host's skills weren't enough, and they tried to get better. That made the muscle memory disappear faster, too fast. Within three days they had burned up the skills. They were destroyed as well.

Then in the last century they had started creating the most refined Eidolons ever. The Alphas. The most refined series of them yet was the T series. Clyde had been the prototype. Agent T01. How had Tobias not seen it?

So far Clyde still had every ounce of Tobias's skills, but Tobias could sense him . . . becoming different. As every day went passed he could feel Clyde's tight security on his mind lessen. Through that loosening protection Tobias managed to find that information. But he found something else, something he _never _expected.

There was a reason he had saved Tris when Tobias wanted to. Because _he _had wanted to.

Clyde the Eidolon loved Beatrice Prior.

* * *

Crouching in the yellow grass, I watch the car drive across. Annabeth and I have debriefed ourselves on the plan of attack. I just have to wait for her signal.

"You shouldn't be doing this," a voice says. I squeeze my eyes shut. "You're ending lives."

"Coming from someone who doesn't have one."

"These aren't monsters," he says again. "Why did you think they were?"

"Look, _I'm _a monster. It's what became of me. So shut up. A monster is someone that isn't human. And the most human of us are the ones that aren't. And the ones that are the least human are the ones that are. So get with it and go away."

"These are humans."

"Humans that killed _you. _What difference does it make? They kill you, I kill them. We all kill people. I killed Will. Look at me, I don't even care anymore!"

"You always think you know what pain is, don't you, Tris?" Tobias asks me. I whirl around. But there's no one there, not a wisp of a person. "Where are you?" I whisper.

"But you do, you always admit to that?"

I whip around to the voice, only to find nothing there.

"Beatrice Prior, she who knows pain."

I throw up my hands. "Enough!"

"But is it?" he's walking up to me, blood blooming on his t-shirt and running down his chest. His dark eyes lock on me. "Do you know what pain is, Tris? You act like you do."

"I never said I knew pain," I snarl. "But I know enough to hate it."

Tobias shakes his head and turns away. "I remember once you asked me to save you, or something like that."

"I told you to stop me before I was gone."

I remember it clearly. In the middle of torture at Gaos I was screaming. Something about Tobias saving me. Then back in the cell I sobbed out those words over and over again until I had no more tears left in me.

He sighs. "I can't save you, Tris," he says. "You're already gone."

Behind me, the car explodes.

* * *

Annabeth rolled under a monster's swing and then punched him in the chest, before swinging around and kicking the one behind her. Where was Tris? She was supposed to be here!

Annabeth yanked one of the monsters' dagger from their sheath and threw it at an oncoming creature. It fell back silently, melting into sand on the ground. Annabeth launched herself into the air as two monsters came at her from either side. They collided head-on. Annabeth pushed her feet onto their heads as she fell down. She pushed off, doing a flip and then landing to punch them both in the face.

A huge, wolfish hellhound pounced on her, and Annabeth pushed with her legs, keeping it off her. She grunted, and in one massive shove the monster flew over her head and she pushed off it, grabbing a handful of thick wiry fur to swing across its back, throwing her feet into a monster's chest and landing on it.

A _dracaenae's _spear caught her in the stomach and threw her down onto her back. The monster pressed the shaft of the blade against Annabeth's throat. Annabeth pushed against it as hard as she could, but the monster was on top, the force of gravity aiding them.

Annabeth ground her teeth and pushed against it with every ounce of strength she had, but the _dracaenae _grinned, baring her fangs. Her slitted eyes grinned. "Say goodbye."

A black blue knocked her off, and Annabeth scrambled to her feet. Tris started firing shots at the monsters. "Sorry about that," she yelled, but Annabeth could see how shaken she looked. Annabeth didn't have time to ask, because before she could move an icy cold metal blade slid across her throat . . .

* * *

**Is it possible for you people to hate me even more? I think it might be, because of this . . .**

**Look, I'll tell you a spoiler: Annabeth isn't dead, got that?**

**Good.**

**Okay, so . . . um . . . yeah. Let's move on, shall we?**

*****EXTRA COOL AND AWESOME QUESTION*****

**Soppiness (Romance) or Action (CARNAGGGGGGGGGGGGEEEEEE!)**

**Me? Definitely Action. CARNAAAAGGGGGEEEEE! **

**Don't judge me.**

**Well, as you've picked up by now (probably) I'm terrible and writing romance. I mean, let's put this into perspective: **

**Murder Scene: HELL YEAH! KILL THAT GUY! CARRRNNAAAAGGGEEE!**

**Romance Scene: GOOD GODS WHAT WILL I DO I CAN'T DO THIS WHAT THE F*** CAN I DO?! *chews nails* THIS WILL BE THE END OF ME! **

**You see? Yeah, I think you see. **

**I have this rant a lot, don't I? Well, I just like to get my point across, okay? I come from a family of screamers. One person doesn't hear, let's scream at them! Do you understand that? DO YOU UNDERSTAND THAT? ****_DO YOU UNDERSTAAAAND THAT?!_**

**That's a brief example. You should hear what happens when I get a C at schoo. *shudder***

**OH MY GODS THIS IS INTERESTING! My English and History teacher (same guy) Thinks I'm mentally disabled. HOW COOL IS THAT?! And at the moment I am trying to make my Art teacher think that too . . . MWAHAHAHAHAHAHA!**

**Okay, guys, we must beat Cat with her story! She has thirty chapters and 180 reviews - WE CAN BEAT HER! REVIEW LIKE MAD, PEOPLE! Me and Cat are very competitive sometimes . . . especially over this. Well, when you think about it, she's telling ****_her _****reviewers to review and beat me, so . . .**

**HECK YEAH REVIEW PEOPLE!**

**This is funny, listen to this:**

**In case of failure:**

**Apply palm directly to forehead. **

**. . . you didn't have to read that, and technically you couldn't listen to it . . . so . . . IGNORE THAT!**

**Gods this is a long A/N . . .**

***sweet and evil grin***

**Okay, until the next chapter,**

**Please R&R,**

**-Owl**


	20. Chapter 20

**Why, hello there!**

**Yes, I have this new chapter and it is NOT all that late . . . I may start to get a bit iffy with chapters and that's because of the dreaded H-word. *shudder* homework. **

**You may have gotten a PM from me talking about your review. And I feel like doing that now. It gives me something to do. *grin***

**Review replies! (even though I already did them): **

**toe walker: that is a fair point. And yay. Being insane is fun. *grin***

**sunnyday45: well, I hope you don't hate me but I know I hate labelling POVs . . . oh, when I have the line across the page it means new POV, and when there's like, three dots it means still same POV but a jump in time sorta thing. The order of POVs is 1. Tris, 2. Annabeth, 3. Tobias/Clyde. Okay? Okay. **

**The Lazy Bookworm: I know. I'm evil. Well, your pain shall be short-lived! Yay!**

**Head of M19: . . . can I as what was so horrible? And how could I do what? Are you referring to killing Percy? Or making Annabeth, Tris and Tobias all have really dramatic character development? Or are you referring to the cliffhanger? Please enlighten me. Ignorance is my undoing!**

**1Dlol: well, it looks cool. And Captain Jack says it in Pirates of the Caribbean, so it has to be ****_some _****sort of word. Still, it looks cool. Savvy? Haha. Love that word. **

**Disclaimer: NO. I AM ****_NOT_**** VERONICA ROTH OR RICK RIORDAN. ALL CHARACTERS BELONG TO THEM EXCEPT MY OCs, AND ANNABETH'S TELEKENETICS ARE CAT'S. I OWN ONLY THE PLOT AND THE WORDS. **

_**"You watched me cry as your loyalties turn,**_

_**"So don't be surprised when I watch you burn." **_**- Why do I put these here? I have no freaking idea who writes them anyway. They just sound cool.**

* * *

**_Chapter 20: Watch You Burn_**

**There is no time for shock; there is no time for fear**—**only dread.**

Just dread as I watch Annabeth's body fall back against the ground, a crimson second smile on her throat. The monster who did it lowers their hood, revealing a startlingly human face with shades.

I scream. I scream like I never have, not in the weeks of torture not when Tobias was killed. I scream so hard my throat is raw and my voice breaks. But I still fight. And then in one massive swing I realize that the sword is in my hand, and as it meets with the monster a white bolt of lightning shoots out of it, spreading like the branches of a tree until all the monsters collapse.

But they do not crumble to dust.

I run to Annabeth's limp body, seeing her sightless eyes. I try to shake her, but then reel back as crimson covers my hands. Of all the people I can imagine getting killed, Annabeth is not one of them.

Just like Tobias had been.

I feel warm tears running down my cheeks. This can't be happening. It can't. It just _can't. _

"No," I say, breathless. I get to my feet. "_No!" _I scream. "This isn't right!"

"No," says a harsh voice. "It isn't."

I spin around, seeing a monster get to their feet. Their cloak remains on the ground, but they are still clothed underneath in camouflage gear, with shades over their eyes. They pull out a gun. "But that won't stop me."

I react faster than I will ever realise. A kick to the hand knocks the gun from his hand, an elbow to the spine winds him and gets him on the ground. A kick to my ankles swipes me from my feet, a jack-knife gets me to my feet again. A punch to my head makes my vision blur, and a knee to the stomach makes him groan.

I finally take him down with a king-hit right to the throat. The dust falls onto my hand, but as it does it turns to a thick golden liquid. I'm too shocked by the feeling to notice another monster rising.

This one isn't as stupid. No words are spoken, but the gun is raised. I stare at the covered eyes blankly, knowing my death was near.

And then he fell face-first onto the ground.

Behind him stood Annabeth, looking ragged and annoyed, the gash on her throat a slim scar but with her blood smudged over her neck and collarbones. She walks over and pulls the knife from the monster's back. "I hate these newer generations," she says. "They're too human for me."

I can't speak. I'm looking at a fully animated Annabeth, with Annabeth words and Annabeth eyes. She looks at me. "You . . . you _died_."

"Correction," Annabeth says, holding up a finger. "I was _killed. _I never died. Okay?"

"But—"

"Look, I know it must have been a bit of a shock to you, but I'm not dead. There are few things that can kill me and that was not one of them. Besides, I wasn't going to let you take down all these guys on your own." Annabeth wipes the knife on her jeans. "Okay?"

"No."

"Thought so," Annabeth takes a deep breath. "Okay, I'll explain it to you: there are very few ways to kill a soul. One is to use the most faithful blade that is not their own, and the other is to stab them through their essence—their heart, basically—at their mortal point. I don't know where mine is, so yeah."

"That should have killed you."

"It did," Annabeth says. She looks away, and whatever questions I have wanted to ask die in my throat. One of the monsters stirs. Annabeth sighs. "Well then, pick the monsters you want to torture, then."

* * *

**Annabeth stood, running the flat of her stolen knife across her knuckles**. The monsters were on their knees, looking at her. She had taken off their shades, of course. Their eyes weren't as horrible as she had expected. Some were gold with slitted pupils, some were completely black, some glowed like molten rock. Nothing much.

"What do you want?" a monster asked. One with black eyes. Annabeth looked at them with distaste. Three monsters knelt before her, and she was itching to get revenge.

"You took something of mine," she said. "Something I will never forgive you for."

"What was it? We'll—"

"You can't give him back! He's dead!"

Annabeth clenched her eyes and looked back down at them. "Like I said, you can't _hope _to give it back, cowards. So I just want to do that alternative."

She drew her blade along her fingernail, making a long scraping sound. "I want to make you regret it."

* * *

**Tobias didn't realise yelling was so tiring. **

_What the—? How—? What the hell is wrong with you?!_

"I told you," Clyde growled, his voice drowned out by the noise of the bar. "I had access to your memories."

_How does that change anything?_

"It means that I had to gain your personality!" Clyde snapped. When a few heads turned, he glared at them and stopped talking out loud. _Do you know what they thought they had got right with the T series? They thought they had added the right amount of empathy for the host. They thought that, if they kept the subconscious in the body, then the Eidolon would be able to craft itself to the subconscious and form a conscious that was almost like the host other than the fact that it was not. Now do you understand?_

_So . . . it's been _programmed _into you to love her? Like—_that _way?_

_No, gods no, _Clyde said. _It means that the way _you _thought has become the way that _I _think. Savvy? _**(A/N: I'm sorry, it had to be done. Seriously. I'm good now, though. And yes, 1Dlol, 'savvy' is a word. I don't like 'poofy'. I have too much a disgusting mind.) **

_No, it's not savvy. How am I meant to just . . . _accept _that?_

_You aren't. You were meant to be destroyed._

_So you could have full access to my girlfriend? To you have any idea how _wrong _that is?_

_Do you know how wrong it is that you're alive?_

_I—_

He stopped as a man sat down at the table in front of him. Or rather, a guy. He had shaggy brown hair and a scar that ran over the bridge of his nose. Dark eyes stared back at him.

"Well," he said, "knew I was going to run into you eventually."

Tobias recognised something in his voice—something that tugged at the back of his mind, but it made no sense. It couldn't. He'd never met this guy before.

But Clyde obviously had. He stiffened, and Tobias could feel his anxiety. The boy crossed his arms and leaned back on his chair. "Yes, he had access to your subconscious, and you should have expected it. Of he hadn't he wouldn't be able to fight in any way."

"What—?"

"I'll just say what I have to," the guy said sharply. "Fate is a twisted bastard, and that means that this was meant to happen, that I was meant to tell you what a bastard it is and that, when Screech comes in here in five minutes to tell you to go after a guy with a buzz cut. Advice: don't. Right. We're done here."

Clyde swallowed as the guy got up. "Who are you?" he asked hoarsely. Tobias was embarrassed at how weak Clyde sounded. The guy turned back slowly. "You'll find out eventually. And trust me, that isn't a day I look forward to."

"Why should I trust you?" Clyde snapped suddenly, catching Tobias off-guard. The boy moved so fast Tobias couldn't track his movements. One moment he was glaring at him from over his shoulder, the next his face was right in front of Tobias's. "How about I ask you this: why _shouldn't _you trust me, Eidolon? What about Tobias in there? What reason do you have to not trust me?"

Tobias rarely paid attention to what people looked like, but this guy wasn't normal. Even this close he couldn't make out what colour his eyes were, they were just dark, emotionless. But they seemed to have . . . anger in them.

That terrified Tobias more than he could name. Clyde swallowed. "The fact that you're threatening me."

The boy pushed himself off the table. He crossed his arms. "Some people are thicker in the skull. It takes more to get through to them."

"Thanks for the insult."

"I didn't realise you liked them," the boy said idly. "I can do worse. Pansycake."

Clyde narrowed his eyes. Tobias didn't take the word seriously, but the Dauntless in him grumbled. No, he did _not _like being called a pansycake. _Shut up, _Clyde told him. _You're making me want to punch him. _

_Then do it._

_Something tells me he would punch back a hell of a lot harder. _

The boy ran a hand through his hair. "Screech should be on his way. Remember: decline. On no account do you go after the guy."

And before Tobias could see—

Before he could realize—

He looked aside to see Screech walk through the door—

And the boy was gone.

* * *

The monsters look up at me. I remember when I had knelt, looking up at an attacker. When I had fallen to my knees and pressed the barrel of Tobias's gun to my head when he was in the simulation. When I had wanted to die, in the Erudite headquarters, looking up at Peter as he loomed over me in my cell. And then, when I was about to die . . . I wanted to live.

I know where I stand with myself. I do not intend to lie to these monsters. I intend to make them know what they did wrong and punish them for it. It's their fault. They have to deal with the consequences. Seven pairs of eyes look up at me. I took their hoods and shades off before, so their true image shines through their eyes. One of them has eyes that are completely black, unfeeling. They are like the simulation-Marcus's eyes.

"I'm not going to explain why I'm going to do what I plan to," I say coldly, devoid of emotion. "Because I am _sure _you already know."

One monster, with silvery eyes that make me see my reflection clearly, as if a mirror, stands up. "I know what we did. And there is a method to why we did it."

I throw the knife at it without looking. The sound of grains falling lets me know that I hit the right place. "That one has had a nicer fate than the rest of you," I say bleakly, fixing them all in an icy glare. "I'll make this easy: did any of you kill the legion of Ares?"

The monsters shuffle, but make no sound. I growl in annoyance. I press the barrel of a gun to the first monster I see—one with slitted pupils in amber eyes. I click the bullet into place. "Did you or did you not shoot the legion of Ares after he attempted to shoot you?"

The monster swallows, and I see a glimpse of fangs. "Yes," it whispers. "I did."

I pull back and shoot it through the leg, the arm, and the side of its face. It screams in pain, but I don't wince. There is a part of me that wants to smile, to enjoy the pain that I am causing, and then, deep down, in a place I know will never have a say in what I do ever again, a grey-robed Abnegation tells me to stop. Screams at me to stop. But she is drowned out by the rest of me.

I hold the gun with one hand, still exactly where it was when I fired its face. It shrieks against the ground, black blood dripping off it, as thick as oil. The other monsters look at me, eyes wide, but the look on my face tells them that this is what they'll get. I'm not panicking, I'm in no frenzy. This is a calculated act. I will get everything right.

One monster tries to get up, and I shoot it in the leg. It slams into the ground again.

When the monster's screams lessen to groans, I address the monsters again. "This," I say, "was only the beginning."

And then, one by one, I shoot the monsters and watch as they crumble to dust. The wounded monster I don't shoot. It will die on its own. It doesn't deserve the honour of a kill. I bend down low, leaning in close, and whisper in its ear, "if anyone finds you, and you're alive, you tell them that Tris Prior, the Legion of Jupiter, did this to you."

I kick it once in the stomach and walk away.

I am not Beatrice Prior from Abnegation.

I am not Tris Prior, the Dauntless.

I am not Tris, the Insurgent, nor am I Divergent anymore.

I am Tris, the Legion of Jupiter.

* * *

The walk back to Odysseus wasn't hard. Just like the descent into darkness. You barely know what you're doing, other than you're doing it. Annabeth had long left her decency and humanity behind. It left her along with _him. _

She shoved her hands in her pockets and kept walking, looking down and watching her breath rise in clouds in front of her. It had been boiling a few weeks ago. Could the temperature have changed that suddenly?

Then again, everything changed suddenly in those weeks.

_"There is no way you can make us afraid of you," a monster snarled. Annabeth glared at it, right in the eyes, as if there was nothing unique about it. "I'm not trying to make you afraid," Annabeth snapped. Her face went blank as anger set over her. "This is merely me making you regret." _

Annabeth whistled under her breathe as she walked towards the grey blob of Odysseus in the distance. It had taken them a day or two to get out here, not now Annabeth was walking back in one night. She shrugged her jacket so it fitted her shoulders better. She didn't expect it to, seeing as it wasn't hers, but she still wanted to wear it. Her hand curled around the hem of the jacket. Had he ever held it like that?

Annabeth gave a bitter laugh and shook her head, dropping her hand. _Annabeth Chase, you are a hopeless case, _she told herself. She rubbed her hands together, trying to warm them, but they remained cold. _Just like everything else of me._

She walked along the golden-brown stalks of grass that cut at her bare skin, still whistling. She glanced up at the sky, seeing heavy grey clouds laden with water. Annabeth let the corners of her mouth tug at a smile, a genuine smile, she supposed, but it just felt too . . . _foreign _to her.

As if on cue, the rain began to pour from the sky, and Annabeth opened her arms to the rain.

It was heavier than she remembered it, heavier than she thought it was when she heard it from the Gaos headquarters. She let out a strange sound in her throat—it took her a while to realise it was laughter. She was laughing.

Wha— she was _laughing? _The world had finally let it become gloomy, like it should when she was in pain, and she was laughing at that?

She clapped a hand over her mouth. This wasn't right. _Then what is right? _A voice argued in her head. Annabeth winced under her hand. Nothing was right. The world wasn't right, the time wasn't right, the people wasn't right, _fate _wasn't right—and _she _wasn't right. She wasn't all right; she wasn't okay; she wasn't even _humane. _

Annabeth spun on heel and ran. She didn't care where. Her foot caught on a rock and she slammed into the ground. She didn't try and get up, she just lay there, staring up at the grey sky, tears and drops of rain falling off her face. She wiped her face, but it was always wet. She gave a shaky cough, expecting to see blood or something on her hand when she pulled it away. She saw nothing there.

Her throat fell raw. She didn't realise she was screaming until then. Annabeth clamped her mouth shut and tried not to think. Of course that was impossible. A thousand different thoughts ran through her head at once, each one getting thought about and moved on, the way only a brain like hers could, and every second thoughts strayed back to the darkest corner of her mind that she had tried so hard to run from. She was running from the darkness in her and yet leading herself into a different kind of darkness.

She wasn't right.

Could she be fixed? Was that possible? No. No, she was too far gone to be fixed. Half of her was crying out for that darkness, and the other half was trying to against it, like willpower. Maybe that's what it was: instinct versus will. If her instinct, if her nature was going to dwell in that darkness, maybe that's what she'd end up being. Maybe her will wouldn't hold out forever.

She let out a choked sob. This wasn't how she had expected to go. She thought it would be simple: monster comes; can't beat it; dies. That was how she thought she would die. Or maybe the monsters wouldn't kill her and she would die of some mortal stuff. But to herself? No. She never would have thought that.

Annabeth covered her eyes and tried to breathe. _One, two, three, _she counted. She couldn't seem to bring her heart rate down, so she tried again. _One . . . two . . . three._

Nothing was going the way she wanted—the way she used to do things. In the midst of action she could be nothing, feel nothing and be ruthless, heartless and in no way humane. Her life had become an act of running away from those moments.

Then she heard it. Faint. It was hardly there, but she heard it. She would have heard it through and explosion. _". . . Annabeth." _

She sprung to her feet, and spun around. The rain slammed into her head like rocks, and she was soaked, but she could _see _him—

A space in the rain. Where no rain was, there was a silhouette. There was no shadow, just a shape. A shape in the rain as if someone had cut it out of the sheets of rain. She started running towards it, air filling her lungs like she was breathing for the first time.

And then, when she got there . . . nothing. She spun around, and saw it again, further off. She sprinted, but no matter how fast she ran she couldn't get to him.

Eventually she stopped. He wouldn't have done this. He wouldn't have led her on some wild goose chase when he knew how much pain he had caused her. He would have come to her, rather than she going to him. Annabeth blinked the tears from her eyes. She was losing it. She wanted to go to where he was, to give into the darkness that she saw as her only way to get there. She wanted to so badly.

_No. _Annabeth wasn't sure if that was her thought or someone else's. Nothing made sense. The world swam before her, rain hardening to rippling sheets of water, like moving glass. The grass underher feet felt like mud. She was shaking. Annabeth looked down at her hands, seeing them pale and trembling so fiercely her eyes could barely focus on them.

Her knees gave out and she sank to her knees. She wouldn't cry. She wouldn't let out a single tear.

She knelt there, arms crossed under her torso as she leaned forward, fighting away the sobs that clawed at her throat. One breath in, one breath out.

_You can't be weak, _she told herself. _Especially when there's no one else to lean on. _

_Sometimes you can't rely on other people. _Annabeth got to her feet and squared her shoulders. _Sometimes those people aren't strong enough to pull you out of the hole you fell into. _

Annabeth started walking. She walked towards Odysseus, all anxiety or nervousness gone. _Sometimes, you have to be the strongest person you know._

* * *

Tobias could hardly believe that Clyde was breathing when Screech slid the picture of them man across the table. Short black hair, pudgy face, with moles along his right cheek.

_Advice: don't. _The boy had said. Tobias would rather believe that kid right now than go after this man. Something made him trust that kid. Clyde wasn't convinced. "Where will be he be?"

"There's a small club down Downbrush alley," Screech said. "On the newer side of the city."

Clyde swallowed. "Okay. I'll do it. When do you want him?"

"I'd prefer if you finished this guy off yourself," Screech said. "Just get the job done as soon as possible. He usually goes down on Tuesdays to announce the winner of the weekly competition."

"Right," Clyde said. _Don't do it don't do it don't do it! _Tobias screamed. Clyde shoved him aside so hard Tobias almost felt himself slip. He held onto his senses—the smell of alcohol in the bar, the chair legs next to his legs, the paper in his fingers.

"Tuesday it is."

This was going to go horribly wrong.

* * *

**. . . DUN-DUNN-DUNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNN!**

**Yep. I'm evil. **

**So, I shall ask the questions for you?**

**1. Why the heck am I making Annabeth and Tris so freaking evil? **

**2. Who the heck is that creepy guy that Tobias met? **

**3. Why is Annabeth going nuts? And**

**4. Why is Clyde's mission going to go horribly wrong?**

**Well, I never said I'd answer them. Jeez. **

******EXTRA COOL AND AWESOME QUESTION******

**What is the worst book/series you have ever read?**

**I wouldn't know. I have read ****_plenty _****of bad books. The Mortal Instruments should have ended on the third book, in my opinion, and then the ****_freaking ending to Maximum Ride _****made me want to burn Nevermore. **

**Well, a reason I have a grudge against the Mortal Instruments is because Casssandra made so many things happen for no REASON! Not to mention that, after the main protagonist dies in the third book she still goes on to write four MORE books, which I still don't understand, and ****_that amount of makeout scenes can _****NOT ****_be healthy. _****Jeez. **

**Although, the worst book I have ever gone past and wanted to burn immediately is probably the Justin Bieber biography. LET. ME. BURN. IT. NOW. *angry face***

**So yeah. I have now tortured you people . . . yay? *ducks as stones get thrown at her* **

**Okay, until the next chapter, **

**Please R&R,**

**-Owl**

**o0**


	21. Chapter 21

**OH MY GODS! I haven't updated in **_**ages, **_**have I? I'M SO SORRY, GUYS! I've been drowning in due assignments . . . *shudder* but after some proof-reading and editing, HERE IT IS! **

**Once again I'm sorry it took so long, but hopefully this makes it up to you. **

**I might warn you there's a lot of malicious violence in this, okay? Good. And, uh . . . beware the shocks. HOLD ONTO YOUR BUTTS BEFORE THEY BLOW OFF!**

**That just sounded wrong. THIS IS WHAT HAPPENS WHEN A FRIEND GIVES ME SUGAR. I. GO. HYPER. **

**Just beware of the shocks. Brace yourself for everything. Good.**

**Review Replies:**

**awesomesawse: Oh my gods that's so close! I NEED TO START PROPERLY FANGIRLING! Have you heard the news? THE RELEASE DATE OF THE HOUSE OF HADES IS OUT! It's the 8th of October this year, people. Oh. My. Gods. Ask away! I get too excited with questions. *grin***

**sunnyday45: YES! WE MUST! Right, no, you didn't miss anything. IT'S ALL EXPLAINED HERE!**

**toe walker: yeah, Nevermore was just SHIT! Pardon my french. Okay, it had to be said. And since I'm nearing the end of the school term all the swearing's coming out. So please excuse that. **

**cuzican: sorry, just no. A) because I'm not a cross-fandom shipper and b) because just **_**no. **_**I am a strong upholder of Percabeth and Ten. I really just don't do this sort of thing. I SHIP THE CANNON, PEOPLE! **

**But I can still see why you asked that.**

**Disclaimer: I JUST DON'T OWN NOTHIN' AT ALL, NOT EVEN ANNABETH'S TELEKENETICS, BECAUSE THAT WAS CAT'S IDEA!**

_**"All my life, I was told to be free;**_

_**"Free as the sky, free as the moon, **_

_**"Free as the birds that fly at Midsummer's noon,**_

_**"But in the end, that is why I am forever bound and yet freer than free,**_

_**"Because, you see, my humanity has fled me." **_**No I don't own that either. I have no idea who does.**

* * *

_**Chapter 21: Humanity has Fled Me**_

I stumble on the slick ground, wondering if Annabeth is back at Odysseus yet. We split up after we defeated the monsters, so we could deal with them ourselves. Then we walk back alone and meet up at Odysseus.

It starts raining, and I pull my jacket tighter around myself. I hunch my shoulders and walk through the rain, trying my best to ignore the burning cold feeling it gives me. The lights of Odysseus shine through the blurry landscape, and I walk towards them. I see my breath blooming out in front of me in a white cloud. How can it be so hot and yet so cold?

_How can you be so innocent and yet so guilty? _A voice asks in my head. It is my voice, no one else's. I clench my jaw and keep walking. _How can you shoot innocents and yet still think you are the one that deserves pity that you cast aside? _

My heel slips from under me and I slam onto my back, winding me. The mud is cold against my spine. I mutter curses and get back to my feet. When I stand, I can see someone silhouetted against the blurry sky. It was distinctly female, and when the light caught her shape I recognised her.

It was the same girl I had seen at the Dauntless compound. With the purple robes and medals. Her black hair caught the light and her dark eyes looked at me. _I see you, _she said. Her mouth moved, but the only sound I could hear other than the pattering of the rain was in my head.

"I know," I say. "You're the girl from before."

_Who are you, girl? You are not from my time. You do not belong here._

I scowl. "But you're the one _here. _You're the one standing in front of Odysseus."

Now the girl scowled, her dark eyebrows meeting in a strong glare. _No, you are standing on the hill of the Greeks' camps. You are the one that does not belong here._

"But . . . I'm seeing you here. Are we seeing each other in our times?"

_Most likely so. _

"I'm. . . I'm Tris. Legion of Jupiter."

_Legion of Jupiter? _The girl is skilled at disguising her expressions. _How old are you?_

"Sixteen," I snap at her. "And in this future—" I would say more but lightning lances across the sky and thunder cracks. I don't know why, but something in me says that it is a good idea not to say any more. "What is your name? Who are you?"

_Tris, Legion of Jupiter, you shall not find that out from me._

Lightning flashes again, and when my vision clears she's gone.

For a moment I can't move. _Three seconds, _I tell myself. _Three seconds of shock and then I will move on. _

_One. _I take a deep breathe, feeling my chest expand.

_Two. _I fling my wet hair from my face, shake my jacket to get the water off.

_Three. _I move on.

The ground if more muddy here, and my feet sink into the ground. I have only ever seen mud at Amity, back when I was little and there was a puddle where the sprinklers had leaked. My mother had pulled me away, saying it wasn't good behaviour: that it was selfish. Of course she would.

What sickens me is the fact that thinking about my mother gives me no pain. The pain that she is no longer here is what has always pained me. It doesn't.

I glare at the muddy ground and trudge to the concrete walls of Odysseus. I feel my way along until I feel the crack in the cement. Working my fingers down I find the small ledge, and a small pull opens up to a small hole. I crawl into it, and the small light source closes, and I am plunged into darkness.

I am forced to crawl up, until I reach the ventilation system. I look up through the first vent, seeing a training room lined with targets. A group of people stand at the other end of the room, firing arrows. Barely any land a centimetre from the bullseye.

I crawl further, until I find an empty training room. I push the grate up and climb through, pulling myself up with just my arms. I swing my legs up and then slide the grate back over the hole.

"Been somewhere, have we?" someone asks.

* * *

As Screech had told him, the nightclub was where he found the guy. Not that it was that hard to find. Screech had said small. Maybe it was just Tobias that didn't know what small was.

But "small" Screech had meant 30 storeys or neon purple lights on a building, with some heavy rock music wafting out of it. People were littered around the entrance, along with some beefy bouncers. Clyde swallowed and walked towards them.

_Oh crap oh crap oh crap oh crap . . . _Tobias was muttering. _You can't be serious about this. _

Clyde ignored him.

As Clyde walked towards the entrance, a bouncer stopped him. He loomed over Tobias, lifting his shades to see him better. Tobias stared at his small, pale blue eyes. The bouncer shrugged. He put a hand on Tobias's shoulder and shoved him towards the entrance. Three more bouncers watched him intently as he walked in.

The doorman pulled open the door.

Tobias was blinded by the sudden noise and lights and smells of it all. Clyde stepped forward, even though it was taking time to adjust. There was a main stage three levels up suspended in the air, and underneath was the bar. Around the centre stage were stands. On the ground level there were a few smaller stages with people milling around them. Someone pushed past Tobias, holding a hand over their mouth. They were probably about to vomit.

No name. That's all Tobias could think. There had to be a thousand people in here. Clyde didn't want the people here to know that he had been the one to kill the man. Tobias was vetoing against it. He wanted to get out. Why did Clyde make trouble for himself?

Clyde walked into the lift first, going with the assumption that, if this guy went down on Tuesdays to announce the winner of some sort of competition, then he'd have to be an owner or worker in some way. With a face that ugly, he had to be an owner.

Clyde went straight to the top level. If Tobias had control of his body, he would have been pacing, muttering about how stupid Clyde was.

And then he remembered. He remembered who Clyde loved.

_Why? _He asked quietly. Clyde ignored him, but Tobias could feel the guy's tension. Clyde clenched his fists, tightening so hard that his fingernails made his skin bleed.

The lift stopped at the 30th floor, and Clyde stepped out. Tobias could feel the tremble in his step, but he was surprised at how well Clyde was hiding it. Shoulders set back and head up high. He didn't appear scared.

He stopped at the door labelled "Mark Oak". Under it was the sign "owner and proprietor."

Clyde pulled back a fist and knocked on the door. To his surprise, it was answered by a woman.

She had mousey-brown hair with a duckbill nose. Her two front teeth were yellowed, and her eyes were slightly blood-shod, like she was sleep-deprived. She raised her eyebrows expectantly. "Can I help you?"

"Uh . . . I'm looking for Mark—"

"Oaks, yeah, I figured. Mark isn't here at the moment. If he's not dead then he's on his way. Thank you and goodbye."

She started to close the door, but Clyde jammed his toes in. "How long will he be?"

The woman didn't look at all frightened. Her eyes remained bored. "I don't know. Depends how many women he bought."

"You can't _buy _women."

"Yes you can." The woman went and sat behind a desk. "Well, you can rent them for a night, anyway."

"That's just . . ."

"Gross? Unjust? Exactly something a Watcher would say."

"I never said I was a—"

"No, you didn't. But you have their mark."

"What mark?" Instinctively Clyde checked his arms, so did Tobias. Was it possible he had a sort of tattoo or something?

"The mark on your jacket pocket. After being in Odysseus a program gets sort of, sent into the fabric of your clothing, colouring some of the threads or whatever bronze, until you can see their mark. It's quite ingenious, actually. In the event of an emergency it disappears, using your heartbeat and such as a guide."

Clyde snatched his right jacket pocket and searched for the mark. Sure enough, there was a small circle with a W inside it, with a small K in one of the W's bends.

"But . . . how did you know to look for that? Who are you?"

"I wouldn't ask that question again, if I were you, _boy,_" the woman snarled, any sense of friendliness gone. Her eyes weren't blood shod anymore, they were clear and black. "Not to mention _Watcher _boy."

"I'm sorry. It's just . . . no one ever mentioned this mark before."

The woman turned back to the screen of her computer. "Many people don't, because Watchers are cheating bastards, schieming, scandalous—"

"So, you hate me?"

"Technically it's against the law for me to hate science, even if it is Gaos science." She looked back at him. "Don't play dumb, I know you're an Eidolon, and I know that there is a fault in you, because I can still see the host. He's still there, in your eyes."

Tobias couldn't contain the fear he felt. Clyde clamped his mouth shut. If Gaos found out, then it would be the end of the road. "Oh come on. I do _not _work for Gaos. Well, not anymore."

"What do you mean?"

The woman sorted. "I spent time as Watcher, I know their systems and crap like that. So I know about their mark. The Wester mark is easier to spot. Tattoo on the inside of the arm."

_Percy used to have one of those, _Tobias though, coming out of is shock.

_That's a complicated story._

_So you know why? I thought he was Greek._

_He is. And he's Roman. And he's really complicated. You learn this stuff in Gaos. He used to be the 'Most Wanted', I guess. Then he and that girl died and that was the end of it, really. Well, those who were in Tartarus know more than I do, but they were pretty bad even after death. _

"Oi, can you two shut up," the woman snapped. "I'm trying to work."

"Well," Clyde said. "You weren't invited to listen."

"_You weren't invited to listen," _the woman repeated in a mock voice. "Then, Agent T01, or _Clyde, _as you prefer, and Tobias, _some _people are too loud to ignore."

The woman flashed a grin.

* * *

Annabeth didn't bother with the hidden entrance. She trudged right through the front door, soaking wet and covered in mud and feeling miserable. Guards aimed guns and bows at her, raised swards to her throat but she kept walking, oblivious.

"Annabeth Chase, you are _so _dead," Thalia said. She crossed her arms.

Annabeth kept walking.

"Annabeth, where are you going? Can't you _hear _me?"

"Not in a million years, Thalia," she snapped, not looking around.

She stopped when something blocked her path. She recognised the thing as Nico, and behind him was Tris, looking more annoyed than scared. Annabeth wouldn't meet their eyes, but rather stared straight ahead. "Can I help you?"

"Where were you?"

"In Tartarus. Next question."

"Ha. Ha. Very funny," Nico said sharply. "Where _were _you?"

"I never ask where you are, so don't ask me."

"You know what? You're right. I should _demand it." _He grabbed her chin and forced her to look up. "_Where the hell were you?"_

Annabeth yanked his hand away. "That's better, then. Anyway, you can't make me tell you."

"Fine then. Earlier we got a message from Gaos." Maybe that should have shocked Annabeth, but it didn't. Deep down she had been hoping for them to respond. "They said that they found their guards tortured and dead. One of them managed to cough out 'Watchers. Legion of Jupiter. Chase.'" Nico let that sink in.

It didn't.

"That's what we _wanted," _Annabeth snarled. "They deserved what they got!"

"Annabeth, this is a _war. _Hundreds of people die every day! What makes the fact that two people also died?"

"_Because they didn't deserve to!" _she screamed. "They didn't deserve to die!"

"_No one _deserves to die, Annabeth," Nico's voice was dangerously quiet. Suddenly he seemed like a very dark person. Annabeth knew she should listen. She knew that she was merely killing for the sake of killing, in some sick idea of revenge, but she didn't care.

_She didn't care. _

"Yeah, and no one says that. No one makes them _pay._"

"This is _war, _Annabeth. People _die. _Everyone dies eventually. All that you seem to care about is the time they died."

"I care about _who _died. Firstly he's kicked out of his own body; then he has to kill himself to get rid of it!"

"Percy did what had to be done!"

"_No he DIDN'T!" _

"What would you rather have happened? Percy decided to make sure he stayed alive and kept the Wraith here so that he could get destroyed again, maybe completely this time, and that the Wraith would wreak havoc again? So that we all _ended up dead_?"

Annabeth clenched her fists to keep them from shaking. She could feel the ground rattling under her feet, most likely where Nico was trying not to summon skeletons. Annabeth clenched her jaw and glared at the ground. She would _not _lose it. Not here.

She pushed past Nico into the hall. But he grabbed her arm, his strong grip squeezing it so hard she nearly cried out. That was it. She whirled around. Jabbing her hand forward and watched him slam against the ground. She hadn't touched him.

That's what she'd wanted.

Nico stared at her. "What did you do?" maybe he wasn't trying to sound mean, but his voice was almost growling. Annabeth was shaking. "Don't push your luck, di Angelo."

She turned on heel and sped off.

* * *

Annabeth walks away.

I don't. I don't get the chance to.

Nico watches Annabeth storm off, her fists shaking in rage. But he doesn't let me go. No, he gets Thalia to take me to his 'office'.

It's a small plain room. Concrete walls with two symbols painted on the back of the door, one that looks like some sort of human figure with their hands thrown up, and one of a sort of helmet.

"Sit," he says sharply. I can fell Thalia's eyes on me. Not angry with me, more concerned. "Don't be too hard on her Nico. She's not used to this."

"Don't interfere, Thalia."

"Don't interfere? You just shut up, Death Boy. Maybe everyone else is afraid of you, but I can tell you right now that your only cousin left is most certainly not."

She doesn't shout, but her voice seems to crack with electricity, almost shocking him. Thalia slams the door after herself.

For a while Nico just stares at where she left, then he puts his head in his hands. "I will give you," he says, sounding consumed with fatigue. "One minute to explain."

"Explain what?" maybe I'm like Thalia. I find a way to get angry with Nico easily. Or maybe more like Lynn. Lynn . . .

"_Everything." _Nico looks up, and his dark eyes search my face. They're the eyes of someone far older than how old Nico looks. He rubs the stubble on his chin. "Starting now."

"What am I meant to say? Annabeth hates her life now that the most important thing in it is gone? I help her because I'm feeling the same thing? Thalia hates you right now because you're treating her like a child when she's older than you? Or maybe you want the other side of things. The fact that I want my revenge because I know what Tobias is feeling right now is worse than death."

Nico sighs. He rubs his eyes. "So you know about the Eidolons, then."

I hadn't wanted to, but even as a prisoner in Gaos I had picked things up. "Yeah, I know. And I know that even thought I had fought so hard to get out of my city, that my family had _died _trying to get the information that there was a place out here out in the public, I hate it. I hate the fact that it went so _wrong. _Tobias is dead or a mindless thing being driven by some monster that is nothing more than a mist, I have watched my best friends die and now my newest friend break apart and fix herself up so that she teeters on the edge of shattering. You may understand many things, Nico. Maybe you have had sisters or brothers or friends that have died, but you don't understand this."

Nico puts his face back in his hands. His shaggy hair falls over his fingers, obscuring his face. "People always assume that, don't they?" Nico shook his head, still covering his face. "People always think that I, of all people, would remain the same way. Guess what? I'm older than 100. You can _change _in that time. You want to know how I knew Amelia Angels?"

Suddenly it all becomes clear. I can't stop my mouth from falling open.

"Yeah," he says. "Just like everyone else that was part of the Seven, we all grew up."

* * *

_Too loud to ignore. _

Clyde shouldered his way through the crowd that was forming around the stage. He had wanted to do this in private, but maybe it had to be said that this guy had enemies.

_Have you actually wondered why Screech sends us after these guys? _Tobias pestered him. _Why are we doing his dirty work? What makes him so special?_

Clyde ignored him, as per usual.

He ended up being shoved against the railing by some girls. Maybe they were older than they looked, but they didn't look older than eighteen. Wasn't there something that said you had to be 21 and over to enter nightclubs?

_Don't be ridiculous. This is Wester country. You do anything you want just you have to get the punishments._

_Okay, then what's the punishment for killing this guy in public?_

_Most likely whipping until dead. _

_Pleasant, _was all Tobias could say. Deep down, it wasn't the pain or death that scared him. It was the fact that Tris was probably still alive and he would never get to see her again.

Something told him that was most likely what Clyde was feeling. Except he wanted to talk to her, to tell her that even though there were two guys in there they were still almost exactly the same.

For some reason, Tobias couldn't find a way to hate him for that. Tris was too good for him, he realised. Who was he to go around saying he didn't fit in? Who the hell did that? But Clyde . . . Clyde could fit in anywhere. He knew everything about this place. He had all of Tobias's knowledge of his city and his own knowledge of the world. He would fit in, just like Tris.

He was better than Tobias.

_Dude, shut up, you're making my aim go crap. _

Tobias didn't reply. Clyde was the better guy. Maybe he should just . . .

_Don't you _dare _disappear on me now, Tobias Eaton or I swear to God I will hunt you down and kill you._

_How can you kill me if I'm dead? Moreover, how would you find me?_

_I have my ways. Now stay right where you are. Or so help me I'll have to kill your body as well. I hope I don't end up in a girl. Urgh._

If Tobias could smile, he would have. Clyde pulled out the small handgun from his pocket, pressing it tight to his side.

The guy walked out on stage. Neither Tobias nor Clyde could see his face, but he looked chunky and his hair was right. So it had to be this guy, right?

"Hello, people!" the man called out. He had the same sort of deep, tired voice Tobias expected. "I am Mark Oaks, and I am here to announce the competition winners!"

_Let's go for dramatic, _Clyde decided, lifting the heel of the gun to his chest, pointing the barrel at the guy. Tobias didn't doubt that he would hit the guy.

"And this week, the winner is . . ."

The drumroll started, and it became so loud Clyde could barely hear anything.

His finger curled around the trigger and pulled it back.

The bang was the last noise. As the drumroll was about to cease, and the first sound came from Mark Oak's mouth the bang sounded. He fell forwards, plummeting off the stage and slamming into the ground far, far below, after sliding between the nets.

_Thud. _Clyde peered over the edge, tucking the gun in his pocket.

His stomach sunk.

He could see the man's face. It wasn't pudgy at all. It was completely different to the guy Screech had sent him to kill. But wasn't that man meant to be here to announce the contest winner?

Tobias revolted inside his head.

They had killed an innocent guy.

As if manifesting from the shadows and stunned silence, someone grabbed his arm and led him out of the club. Clyde didn't protest. He was dragged out and the guy threw him on the street.

It was the same guy that had warned him in the bar. He looked at Clyde with steady, dark eyes shrouded in shadow.

"Like I said; _bad _idea."

And then it all went blank.

* * *

Annabeth was hanging on the windowsill of her room. They hadn't bothered to lock her in, they just closed the door. That was it. Her fingers were going numb from clutching onto the concrete ridge, with only those ten little joints to hold up the weight of her body.

She sucked in the cold, heavy, blood-threaded air, feeling her ribcage expand against the cold concrete wall. The wind blew her hair into her face, which irritated her. She couldn't afford to have her hair in the way. With only her fingertips to pull her up, she climbed back against the wall and pulled herself back into her room.

This room hadn't been painted. There were bare, grey concrete walls and a cot of a bed. There was a stool for a dresser and a fragment of blunt glass for a mirror. Annabeth didn't care. She pulled her small knife from her back pocket and tied back her hair. She gripped the tail of her curly hair in hand. Maybe she didn't want to do this; her hair had stuck with her even through Tartarus.

_The world of the living is the only hell you will ever know._

Annabeth took a deep breath, looking at the long curly blonde hair clutched in her fist. If this was the life she was choosing, then she wasn't Annabeth Chase, daughter of Athena, Architect of Olympus anymore. Annabeth snorted. She couldn't believe that wanting to design Olympus has once been her dream job. What was her dream job _now_? Mindlessly killing things?

She clenched her jaw and cut the hair. She felt the weight in her hand lift, and when she looked down there it was, the hair she has grown up with, all over the ground. But this wasn't the end. Sure, her hair was shorter, but not short enough. She remembered when Tris had told her about her friend Lynn, who had shaved off her hair. Maybe that was too short. But it had to be short.

It was about time she saw some of Odysseus's facilities.

* * *

Nico lets me out after that. There isn't really that much to do, but when I am bombarded by Uriah, I know that I have to pick up my act. Maybe I should try and preserve a wisp of my old self.

"Tris!" he calls, almost hesitantly. I watch him weave through the crowd of legions and soldiers, puffing as he catches up with me. "God, you people are . . . I don't know what you are, but you're definitely them."

"Yep, we're all serial killers over here. What do you want?"

Uriah bites his lip. "Well, since I just got out of 'jail', I was wondering if you could show me around."

"There's not that much to see, other than the training rooms."

"Then I want to see them." I shrug. I had wanted to see them when I first came here, back when Tobias was still alive . . . "Where do you want to start? There's swimming pools."

"I can't swim."

"You'll learn."

"No, really, I can't—"

"You'll _learn," _I snap. "You only have to nearly drown once or twice and then you're good."

"Actually, let's go for something else."

"Guns."

"I thought you couldn't—"

"Things change. Let's go over there. You have to be able to fire a gun goddamned well if you want to survive out here."

"Yeah," Uriah rubs the back of his neck. "I realized."

"Did you run into Gaos soldiers or something?" I key in the code to the training rooms, not looking up.

"What? No. Who are they, anyway? No, I ran into these guys with marks on them—like tattoos, just . . . _marks_."

"Westers," I confirm. "I haven't run into them yet, but loads of people want me dead now anyway." I pull the door open. "After you."

Uriah walks into the dark room, then jumps as the lights come on. I push past him and open the door to the supply cupboards. "Since when did you become so acquainted with this place?" Uriah asks, peeking over my shoulder as I sort through guns. "Since they taught me that there's no such thing as fair."

I pull out a few guns, and sling a rifle over my shoulder. I take a few packets of bullets with me. "Are you practicing with . . . what are those?"

"They say mortal steel," I tell him. "Which is the normal stuff. Lead lined for shrapnel."

"And you're _practicing _with these?"

"Why not? I end up using them enough anyway."

Uriah raises an eyebrow at me as I click a bullet into place. "You're allowed to get your own stuff. You don't have to watch me."

Uriah turns into the supply cupboard, and I start to fire the gun. I move along the targets, seeing a bullet hole open in the bullseye of each one.

When I turn back to Uriah, he's holding a black bow. "What the hell? I've only ever seen these I history books."

"I wasn't aware Dauntless children studied."

"Ha. Ha," Uriah snapped. "But really, why?"

"Because bows and arrows are effective."

Uriah pulls back the string. I have only ever seen Thalia use a bow, and that look she gets was one of pure concentration, like she loved shooting arrows and using bows and because of that she would not dare spoil the aim by smiling. Uriah's face looks like that now. Then he lets go of the string and watches it snap back to its original position.

"You look like you could be a good archer."

I whip around to the sound, and see Thalia sitting on the concrete ledge behind us. She tosses Uriah a silver arrow. "Shoot it, bro."

Uriah looks at the silvery stick in his hand, then back at Thalia. Her face is deadly serious. Uriah swallows and pulls the string back again, holding the arrow. He stands like that for a while, and then releases the arrow.

For a moment it seems I am seeing it in slow motion. I see the arrow get pushed forward by the string, I see it fly from the bow, and then I see it lodge in the target. It isn't in the bullseye, which makes me slightly disappointed in some way.

Thalia nods. "There's an archery lesson after lunch. You should come."

Uriah grins. It makes memories of Dauntless initiation come to mind, with Lynn, who stomped on my toe, Marlene who had a muffin fired off her head, Tobias who—

I swallowed them down. Instead other memories came to mind; my mother falling with blood dying her clothes red, my father falling also. Jeanine getting stabbed in the stomach, her lifeless body on the stretcher . . . I should not find these thoughts more comfortable than thinking of when they were alive. But I do.

I do.

* * *

Tobias couldn't remember what he and Clyde did. He was used to killing people; he was used to planting bullets in their heads without a second thought. But he had never stood there and watched them fall, never watched their listless eyes stare back at him. The woman used to be in his fear landscape for a reason; that he was afraid of regret.

And he regrated taking the life of Mark Oaks, who had been an innocent man that he had killed. He had watched him fall from the stage and seen the blood spread around him like some sick flower, ready to open and bloom around him and then swallow him up.

Tobias had been many things. But he had never been a thief.

Clyde. Of all the people Tobias thought would have trouble coping, he never thought Clyde would. Eidolon's weren't meant to be sympathetic.

But Tobias regretted it. He regretted ending Mark's life; he regretted not being able to stop Clyde. He hadn't even _tried. _What kind of a person killed a man in cold blood? What kind of a man did that for _no money at all? _What kind of a person would . . . he just couldn't cope.

They ended up in an alley, draped across the fore escape. Tobias's throat was burning, so he guessed Clyde had thrown up. _That was a fail, _he moaned.

_You're telling me._

_No, I'm stating the fact to try and make myself feel better._

_Well that worked out, didn't it? _Tobias snapped, feeling Clyde rub his throat. Tobias still didn't want to believe the horrible truth: that he had killed and ran. That he had killed an innocent man that had most likely done nothing wrong, a man that had stared back at him as he died.

Clyde swallowed. _Stop thinking of that._

_Stop listening to what I'm thinking_

_Learn to keep to yourself._

_Get stuffed._

_Get f—_

An invisible force threw him off the fire escape. Tobias fell ten metres before slamming into the ground. He would have screamed if he had the strength. He couldn't breathe, he couldn't think, he just _couldn't. _

A shadow loomed over him. "I'm not doing you a favour, so don't thank me."

And then it was all gone.

* * *

I walk into the cafeteria and look around for Annabeth. I haven't seen her since she stormed off from Nico. Something in me is almost warning me, warning me to brace myself. Why that is I don't know. I just _don't _know.

I scan the heads at the tables, looking for anyone familiar. While I may not want to eat, I probably should. I walk into line and grab a tray. Someone in front of me steps on my toe, and I kick them back. They turn around, anger twisting their face. "What was that for, you little kid?"

"_That's _for stepping on my foot," I snap back.

"Oh? I'm sorry, maybe I should have—"

"_Shut up," _someone snaps so coldly that I jump. It comes from a girl with their hair buzzed short, with piercings covering her right ear, so it looks almost like there is a chain on her ear. I try to see her face, but I can't. She wears a black hoodie over a grey t-shirt, with torn black jeans. Something about her is familiar.

And then I recognize the voice.

I push in front of the man who stepped on my toe and get tap her on the back. She spins around, hand ready to grab my throat—

Then she stops, and lowers it. "Tris," she says, dully. Like she can't put any feeling into the word. I stare at her. "What did you do to yourself?"

"My hair annoyed me," she answers, like it was obvious. "And they had a sale on—ten piercings and a haircut for half price."

"What?"

"I saw my hair. It was what I had always been. And then I realized that I wasn't that anymore. So off it went."

"And the piercings were a sale."

"Yes. I didn't even realize when they did it."

"Did they have tattoos for sale?"

"No idea," Annabeth replies. "I don't want a tattoo anyway. They're too permanent. Nothing in my life is permanent. So no inking for me."

"Tattoos hurt more," I say, trying to lift her attitude.

"I wasn't doing it for the pain, Tris." Annabeth gets her food from the counter and walks off. I follow her, my tray now heavy with food; food I know I won't eat now.

"Then what _were _you doing it for?" I inquire, setting my tray down on the table. Annabeth holds a lettuce leaf between her fingers and takes a bite off the end. "I saw my hair blowing in my face. It annoyed me. I cut it off. I've already lost so many things. What's a bit more? Besides, that was what Annabeth Chase; daughter of Athena had looked like. I can tell you right now that I'm not her anymore. Can't believe I used to think architecture was my life."

"Did you want to be an architect?"

Annabeth's eyes become dreamy for a moment. "Yeah," she says quietly. "I wanted to help design Olympus. I wanted to make something permanent; something that I knew would stay there." Her eyes become sharp and she glares at the table. "But not anymore."

Maybe I should ask her about it. Is that what a good friend does? But I don't think that me and Annabeth are 'friends', exactly. Tobias was killed; Percy killed himself. They're both dead. Both od our old lives are far behind us. Except we have loose ends that constantly taunt us, tell us that once upon a time we weren't killing-obsessed girls that wish only to kill and torture the people that caused our pain until they are begging for death.

No, we had not always been like that.

As if on cue, Uriah comes and sits down on your table. He has a bow and quiver slung over his shoulder. "Hey," he says. Annabeth glares at the table, obviously trying hard not to get angry at Uriah for interrupting the silence. "Hi, Uriah," I say. Uriah starts shovelling food into his mouth. "Hmm, hhhuuushhh," he says with his mouth full. For a moment a smile tugs at my mouth, but then I realise that one vital thing is missing and that smile goes up in smoke.

"So, what classes are you guys in?" Uriah asks after he swallows. Annabeth doesn't look at him. Shoves a lettuce leaf in her mouth. "I'm not in any classes at the moment. Probation."

"Oh," Uriah sounds disappointed. "Probably because you'd whip their—"

"Who's the teacher for archery?" Annabeth asks suddenly. The piercings on her ear jingle soundlessly. Uriah looks startled. "Thalia is."

Annabeth scowls. "Of course. Why didn't I know that? I should have known that."

"It might be because you're a—" I clamp my hand over Uriah's mouth before he can finish. Annabeth stares daggers at him. "Go on. Maybe if you finish that I'll introduce you to the wall."

Uriah swallows, his eyes painfully wide. I remove my hand and he stays there, almost frozen. Then I realize he is.

"Annabeth," I say softly. "You might want to release his nervous system."

Annabeth frowns and Uriah suddenly lurches forward, gulping in air. "Okay, okay, I'm sorry! I didn't—"

"Shut up. If there's one thing I hate more than insults, it's apologies."

Uriah clamps his mouth shut. Then he returns to eating. Annabeth stands up. "I'm going to hack into the system and see what video it was that Gaos sent us." She glances across at Uriah with venom I never thought Annabeth would have, then she walks off. I press my palms to my face. This isn't right.

"Hey, you okay?"

"No," I snap. "Do I _look _okay? Urgh. I just . . . nothing works!"

I'm surprised at the height my voice can reach, but apparently the rest of Odysseus are used to outbursts. I let my head fall to the table. I squeeze my eyes shut. "I can't do this. I have lost _everything that I care about, _and now I just . . . how and I meant to pick up the pieces when there is nothing left to pick up?"

Uriah puts a hand on my shoulder. "You start again."

I groaned against the table. "You and I both know that's a hell of a lot harder than it sounds."

"Wasn't it Four that said 'great things are done from struggling through the pain'?"

"No."

"Ah. Well, that makes me look like a complete idiot. Well _someone _said that, okay?"

"Okay then. _Someone _said that 'great things are done by struggling through the pain.'"

"Did they? Who was it?"

I bang my head on the table, but I can't stop a small smile.

"You see? I'm epic at this crap."

"Not really," I say, still smiling.

The playfulness in Uriah's tone disappears in an instant. "Then you'd better find someone that is."

* * *

Tobias woke up tied to a post. In front of him was a ghostly pale face. With black hair that floated around it as if suspended in water. "Interesting," she said, almost in a whisper but loud enough it could have been a shouting, but even then it sounded musical, like it was echoing around a chamber. "Two souls in one body. And yet they have the same goal."

Clyde swallowed. Tobias stared at her face. Her eyes were black—almost like the Wraith's, but these were dark and deep and held a dark curiosity, rather than the Wraith's malice. "You are alive. The Eidolon did not kill you. Why not? Surely this futile _love_ cannot—"

"Don't say a word against Tris," Clyde snapped. The woman straightened. "Why not? Would it cause you pain, Eidolon?"

"You have no idea," Clyde spat. The woman's eyes hardened so they looked like stones. "You know nothing of pain. You are but a child, bare and unguarded against its wrath."

From the shadows another figure emerged—the boy that had warned Tobias and Clyde, then dragged them from the club. In the ghostly light Tobias could see that his eyes were dark and heavy, weighed down by something. Something dark.

There was more than pain in this boy.

"Ah, there you are," the woman turned. Tobias noticed how graceful she was. "I was thinking of firing you."

The boy said nothing, but stared back at her with dark eyes. The woman turned back to Tobias. From within the sleeve of her shirt she drew a think knife. "It is impossible for an Eidolon to leave their hose unwillingly"—at this the boy snorted. The woman scowled—"but it is certainly possible to make them spill their secrets, especially those unaccustomed to pain."

Clyde looked helplessly at the boy, searching for some sort of help, but the boy stared back with as much evil as pain in his eyes. He wouldn't lift a finger to help him. The woman advanced slowly. "Time to open up, Little Golden Cloud."

_No, _Clyde said. _That's impossible._

* * *

Annabeth sat hunched in front of the screen, typing rapidly as the text on the screen began to decode. Annabeth wasn't entirely sure what Gaos would say, but she just wanted to know. Since she had cut her hair off she had come to the conclusion that there was no good or bad; just events.

The screen froze and a green bar of loading came up. Annabeth drummed her fingers against the table. Then the text changed like a wave, and it was readable.

_Watchers,_

_You have committed a most unwelcome crime. Stealing back your prisoners we can accept, it was something you wished on doing. But this new crime we cannot tolerate. _

_Three remaining Gaos stealth agents were discovered not far from your border. They were on a raid—that is something to be expected at this time—but they were found half-dead, killed with no honour or respect. They were not killed—they were tortured unto death. We are not as uncivilized as we may have seen, in the early days this war started. We know honour. We know that death is unavoidable, but it is a crime to be killed the way these agents were._

_One, barely alive, managed to make out the words "Legion of Jupiter . . . Chase . . ." we understand that this refers to the new Legion you have acquired, a Miss Beatrice Prior—or perhaps, Beatrice Grace. And the other, the demigod pulled from the old time, Annabeth Chase. Give us them, and this can be avoided. _

_But as long as you hold them within the walls of your base, know that whatever tensions that have eased are lowered no longer. _

_The war has started again. And it will be far, far worse this time, Keeper di Angelo._

* * *

**Yeah, I can predict that you guys hate me. Cat kinda slightly hates me for what I did to Annabeth, BUT I HAVE MY REASONS, okay? Good. This will all be explained when we get to the proper stuff. **

**Foutris stuff should be coming in a bit . . . I just gotta get the Gaos stuff done . . . and then we have some complicated bits. But I like the fluff. NOT THE MAKE-OUTS. URGH. The fluff is nice. Other stuff no. And when I say fluff I mean the occasional sweet line in the middle of some huge attack scene. Not romance. THERE IS A DIFFERENCE.**

******EXTRA AWESOME AND COOL QUESTION*****

**Have you ever ridden a horse? If so, what did you think? Or do you own horses? If you do, then YOU LUCKY -**

**So yeah. I ride horses in competitions, but just school-horses. I did jumping on a horse called Tom and came 2nd. This was jumping Equitation, though. And then in the jump-off in Showjumping I had a mental blank and lost about 5 seconds, which then shoved me back down to 5th. That was this Monday. I MISSED OUT ON SCHOOL. HELL YEAH. **

**But my favorite horse is definitely Lucy, but SHE HAD AN EYE REMOVED BECAUSE THE OWNER LET A TUMOR GROW IN HER EYE. I hate that owner now. Lucy's a gentle giant. 16.5 hand Thoroughbred mare. Just she ****_does _****get a bit excited. I can't ride her yet, though. She has to be broken in again. Pooey. Oh well, I should be able to ride her for next term's club. YAAAAAAYYY!**

**That's my ranting done. :D**

**Until the next chapter,**

**Please R&R,**

**-Owl**


	22. Chapter 22

**Righto guys, I am alive and have a new chapter. I won't say much so you can go and start reading!**

**Disclaimer: Listen, I don't own anything but the plot and the writing, Annabeth's kick-ass powers belong to Cat.**

_**"Many things come about when one does run in fear,**_

_**"The maiden's eyes did cry a tear,**_

_**"The king's son was long lost in death,**_

_**"Painful it was, his final breath,**_

_**"Not long did it take for the war to spread,**_

_**"And the sky bled."**_

* * *

**_Chapter 22: And the Sky Bled_**

**Gaos are quick to respond. **They do not attack, but they call out the body of Odysseus. Most were slaughtered as they were hopelessly outnumbered and outmatched. Only a select few, such as Nico remain. And even he doesn't look good. There are bags under his eyes, and a long cut over his cheekbone is a sickly red and yellow colour.

I am waiting for him to blame me, or Annabeth. For him to whirl around and scream, to accuse me of all the deaths.

But he doesn't. Instead he walks into his office and slams the door shut.

The reinforcements come not long after, called out from Long Island. They look different over there—thicker and sturdier, not so much for speed as for strength. I don't recognise any, but one woman—maybe only nineteen, but she certainly didn't act like a child—is clearly the leader. She watches us all with predatory eyes, making sure that we do not cross her path wrong, or she will kick us down so hard we won't get back up.

I sit on the small table in a shadowy corner of the cafeteria and poke my fork at the strange doughy thing with tomato and cheese on it. Uriah hasn't shown up for the last two days—after the first attack went out. I wouldn't be surprised if he was dead.

I see Thalia stalk across the room, grab someone by the neck of their shirt and yank them up. She must be strong, because she can lift him off the ground with one hand. "What the hell were you thinking?" she screamed at him, before dropping him. "Come with me."

Everyone is on edge. People shoot me dirty looks. If they weren't so afraid of Nico or Thalia, I have no doubt that I would have been killed already. AS it is, they are probably plotting it right now, but are too busy with the attacks to put it into practice.

I am yet to see Annabeth again. The last she spoke to me was just before the soldiers went out. It struck me then that she definitely was not the Annabeth I knew. That every last shred of Annabeth Chase in her was gone, and there was nothing but the hollow shell of pain left. I rub my eyes. I have had trouble sleeping, because my room is so close to the infirmary that I can hear the groans and sobs. I want to move to another room, but I can't bring myself to ask. Maybe some dark part of me is desperate to know that there are other people out there that can feel the pain I did and do.

Someone kicks the table as they go past. I don't bother looking up. That seems to anger them, because they grab my by the scruff of my neck and throw me against the wall. I don't recognise them, but their eyes are red and they have bags under them. The boy pushes me back against the wall so hard it feels like my sternum is crushing beneath it. "This is all your fault!" he yells. He reaches behind him and pulls something from his pocket—I can see the glisten on the blade as it comes out.

I pull my legs up and push him away. I jump onto the table, pulling out my own small knife. "Maybe it is," I snarl. "But what can you do now? What is there left to do?"

"To kill you!" he yelled back. The cafeteria is silent. I throw my knife down. "Then by all means do, if you can."

He comes at me, but I throw myself off the table. I can feel the adrenaline rushing through me, making my instincts come out. He ducks low and goes for my legs, but I launch back in a summersault, before swinging a leg out and slamming him back, making him fall against the table.

"Go on, then, kill me," he says. For a moment my weight shifts forward, but then I see the knife in his hand and try to step back, but it's too late.

He springs up from the table, his knife coming at me, and I am too unbalanced to do anything.

Suddenly a hand shoots out and grabs him by the collar. He's thrown back against the table so hard the wood splinters. Annabeth stands over him. The boy's eyes are bright with fear. "You don't fear her and yet you fear me. What is it with fear and weakness?"

Annabeth grabs his shirt again and tosses him across the ground. "You should pick your victims more carefully. Make one move against Tris and trust me; you'll regret it."

She doesn't look at me. I shrink back against the wall. I'm not sure whether to be thankful or not. I don't feel thankful in any way, though.

Annabeth pulls the boy to his feet, then lifts him up so she can punch upwards. "I would make wiser choices of people you want to kill."

"You're the people that caused her death!" he yells. "It's your fault! You should pay for it!"

"Oh, don't you worry," Annabeth punches him in the face and drops him. "We've already paid many times."

The man spits blood from his mouth. "You don't know shit."

Annabeth makes a face of feigned shock. "Oh," she says, resting her fingertips to her lips, "don't I?" she lowers them and glares at him. "Oh no. I've just watched _everyone I know and care about tortured and die. _I haven't paid at all, have I? What do you think I am? Did you think that I have always been this strange, murderous girl? No. _You _don't know shit about this."

"Who gives a crap what you used to be?" the boy snarls, dragging himself to his feet. "Whoever you were, she died a long time ago. I don't know who you are, but you're a strange, murderous girl and that's all you'll ever be to me."

Annabeth moves fast. I can see her weight shifting as she moves, and the man moves to attack her, but at that moment a huge black blast blows them apart. Nico appears from the shadows. He's looking down, his sword's tip resting on the ground. "Either of you move," he says slowly. "And I'll make sure you'll wish you'd never been born."

The cut on his cheek is bleeding down his face, but he doesn't wipe it away. It makes him look like a spirit of death—bloody and clothed in black. His hair hangs over his face, smeared with dried blood. "You can either leave, or I can take you away."

His sword begins to pulse with purple glow. "I'm not going to wait that long."

Annabeth clenches her fists. "I'm leaving."

She stalks past Nico and walks out the door.

* * *

**Annabeth walked through the halls until she reached the entrance. **She took a deep breath, reaching down to pick up the pack she had left there. She rubbed her eyes. That had been an unnecessary dilemma. Tris could have handled herself. She, meanwhile, had more pressing matters.

"Annabeth!" someone yelled after her. Annabeth groaned silently. This could wither be messy, or just plain destructive.

She turned around slowly, and saw Thalia walking towards her. She wasn't sure if Thalia was shocked or not, because Thalia kept her face in check. "Where are you going?" Thalia asked. Annabeth looked down. She didn't want to hurt Thalia. Especially not by what she was going to say.

"Hey," Thalia's voice was softer. "You don't have to leave, you know. Nico's just—"

"Nico is completely right," Annabeth snapped, looking up. "I'm leaving. This place . . ." Annabeth looked around, then glared at her bag. "I don't belong here, Thalia. I don't belong _anywhere_."

"That's not true."

"It is!" Annabeth wasn't crying, but she wanted to. She _wanted _to cry. She wanted to leave on a note to prove just how wrong Thalia was.

But she didn't.

"Thalia, I don't belong here. I don't belong _anywhere. _Don't you get it? If I don't belong here then I'm going to tear this place down. And I am just . . . so _sick _of tearing things down, having things torn away and just . . . I'll just tear everything down so there is nothing left to be torn away from me. So I don't have to worry about something."

"You can't live like that."

"Why not?" Annabeth glared her cousin in the eye. "What is it that says that I can't? It's more practical than loving someone! Look where that got me!"

"That's not how it works," Thalia grabbed her wrist, but Annabeth shook her off. "Why is it that we are the only ones that have to feel pain?" She swiped the back of her wrist angrily over her eyes, swiping at tears that weren't there. "All those other creatures and animals—they know how to not feel pain! So why don't we?"

"Annabeth, please calm down—" Thalia was calm, she wasn't desperate. But she wasn't understanding either. Annabeth recognised the look in her eyes: she wanted to help, but she wasn't born to do that: she didn't have the talent to help. She had the talent to fight her way through and make things right. Not to sit out and listen. She was calm because she wasn't going to fight, because the only sides on that battle were Annabeth and her ethics.

"Don't tell me to! I'm not a child!" Annabeth's want for tears were gone. She remembered something in her mind—a saying. "_Tears of rage are the blood of innocents." _For once Annabeth ignored it.

"It doesn't matter whether you're a child or not." Thalia wasn't shouting. But her voice echoed. It filled Annabeth's ears and wiped away any other thought she was thinking. It was solely on what Thalia was saying now. "What matters is what you do."

Annabeth took a deep breath. She didn't want her anger to come out. She wanted to keep it in. She knew when she planned on letting it out: and it wasn't now. "I know what I'm going to do. I'm going to _act." _

She sliced a hand through the air, and disappeared.

* * *

**Tobias didn't understand what the woman wanted, or what she was doing. **She said that she was going to cause them pain, but so far she had done nothing. He wasn't sure if that was a bad thing.

_It's not. Or it might be. _Clyde said._ It could be tension. She could mean that. _

_Tension is painful?_

Clyde shrugged.

The only thing that had kept Tobias preoccupied was the boy sitting in the corner. His face was hard to pick, but his eyes were hard to miss. But he wasn't looking at what was in the kid, not whatever dark or sinister thing lurked within, but more on his appearance. Under the shadow of his hair he could see faint scars. Other than that the face looked . . . regular. He didn't know the boy.

Or did he?

As if on cue, the boy looked over. Clyde stiffened, but Tobias didn't. _There's something wrong with you, _Marcus had told him once. _Which is why you must be punished. To fix you. For pain is sometimes for the greater good._

_I'm guessing my childhood isn't enough to scare them, _Tobias noted. Clyde snorted, and the boy looked away. _Tobias, if they thought your childhood was painful enough they would have said so. They probably think having your spinal column ripped from your body and made into an ornament in front of you is like a paper-cut. Or maybe like the Vikings who would tear open a victim's chest and—_

_Clyde, _Tobias said. _I get the picture. _

"You guys done talking?" the boy muttered. "It's really quite loud."

"Don't be ridiculous," Clyde snapped, leaning against the cold slab. "You can't hear it?"

"What made you think that?" there was no expression on the boy's face. Tobias found the way he was so . . . _blank _the scary thing. He didn't deny his fears; he simply did what he had told Tris, all those centuries ago: that he ignored them.

Well, that's what it felt like. The Chicago War that he had feared he hardly remembered. He couldn't remember what that amount of safety was like. He must have been a real chicken.

_Yeah, you were, _Clyde said.

Tobias couldn't tell if the shady boy's face changed or if something lifted in him, became less dark.

But that didn't last. The boy looked away again.

_Hey, Toby—_

_What the hell? _Toby? _Are you insane, Clyde?_

_I think "Tobias" is too much a mouthful. _

_Dude, Tris was my _girlfriend _and never came up with a pet name or something for me. I don't want one now, when I may be ripped in half any moment. _

_Suit yourself, _Clyde snapped. _But I'm still calling you Toby._

Tobias mentally groaned. And he had thought having roommates was hard. If he ever complained about Zeke's snoring being too loud again he was going to eat his quilt. And if Zeke ever complained about _his _snoring (which he doubted) then he was going to say get and Eidolon to _share your mind._

_. . . You don't have a roommate, _Clyde protested.

_I used to. I was lent that room when I took the job of being a trainer for the initiates. It was a big difference. _

_Well, _Clyde said, thinking. Tobias really didn't want to know what of. _That makes more sense. _

The shady boy got to his feet suddenly. Clyde raised an eyebrow quizzically. Almost immediately the door silently opened, and the woman strode in.

_Heh, _Clyde said. _"Shady Boy". Good one._

Tobias stared at the woman coming towards him. She had threatened them before, told them to expect pain, but this time she really looked equipped to do it. She smiled. "Eidolons are such strange creatures," she said. "But there are a few that know about them. Such as I. And . . . what did you say your name was?" she looked behind her at the— at 'Shady Boy'. Clyde corrected him mid-thought.

"Nathaniel," the boy said. Clyde pouted. He liked the name he'd assigned the boy.

The woman turned back to him. "Yes. Nathaniel." For a moment the woman seemed to falter: her brow drew together, her lips pressed to a thin line. Anguish. Confusion.

Then she picked up her image and returned to being sadistic.

"We know what it is that makes you . . . souls," she said. "We know how to put you in . . ." she leaned forward, so that her face was only inches away. Her eyes glowed with malice. She put on a cold, mocking voice of pity. "And we know how to take you out." **(A/N: I don't know why but I imagined the Bellatrix sort of voice saying that. You know when she does the "Pity . . ." act? Yeah. I LOVE BELLATRIX! That actress is a goddess. BACK TO SADISM! – Owl) **

For once Clyde was generally afraid. Tobias could feel the adrenaline rushing through him, heart rate so fast it felt as if it was in the back of his throat. _No one _could take and Eidolon out . . .

Could they?

One part of Tobias was screaming in joy. _Clyde was leaving! He got his own body back!_

The other part didn't want to him gone for two reasons: a) because he had no idea what the hell to do once Clyde was gone and b) because . . . he was Tobias's friend.

_Gee, _now _you confess, _Clyde snapped bitterly. _What else are you going to say? Your sexual orientation has changed as well? You're suddenly attracted to the guy sharing your body? Hit me while I'm expecting it. _

But Tobias couldn't speak. He couldn't think. Clyde's anger was fuelled by his fear. Like Tobias's had always been.

The woman lifted a curved knife to his field of vision. It was silver, and had a crescent moon carved onto the hilt. "More traditional than I'd like, but this is the most promising way for . . . you two," she said. "The T generation was the most successful. Had you managed to destroy the host's mind—"

"His mind _is _destroyed," Clyde snapped. "The only reason it's alive now is because his image was still in _another _mind." Clyde gritted his teeth, biting back the rest of his anger.

The woman glared at him, then backhanded him across the face. Pain exploded through him, it seemed that the woman's touch set everything on fire—in pain. **(A/N: I don't use the fire metaphor in my *shudder* romance stuff. Nuh-uh. NEVER. BACK TO THE ACTION! – Owl) **It was almost as if it spread . . . _acid._

Clyde's memories of knowledge and training were things Tobias could see as well. The Soresoress: half toad-half monster creatures that had acid glands under the skin. More recently evolved from explosions. The acid attacks faster than the human and or half-blood nervous system can transmit pain messages to the brain. It goes to the circulatory system, getting spread around the body and taking days, weeks and even months to leave the body.

_Brilliant . . . _Tobias groaned.

The woman grabbed him by the hair and yanked his hair down. "It doesn't matter. We will find out how and why this happened. Love is an illusion. It does not exist. It is not the reason. AS for you, Eidolon Clyde, you will transferred to a dead host. Bring the body life and we will question you there. You, Tobias Eaton, are useless. You know nothing."

"At least tell us the method you intend to use to cut the souls apart," Clyde spat.

"Very well," the Soresoress said. "This blade is made of Immortal Silver. The metal of the Hunters of the Moon Goddess, now faded. It does not carry the name "Immortal" for nothing. The soul is immortal, it can never die. It is the closest thing to true immortality there is. And because of that this metal and separate two souls, no matter how joined they are. Even if one is responsible for the other's existence."

"You're right," Clyde said. "That _is _too traditional."

The toad-monster growled and placed the cold blade against the back of his neck.

_Bye, Buddy, _Clyde said.

_Hey, Clyde, _Tobias said. _There's a high chance I won't be alive after this, so please find a way to tell Tris that I'm not dead . . . well, I wasn't, and now I am._

_I'll tell her you love her and yeah, _Clyde said. His tone softened as the cold metal cut the skin. _It was nice knowing you, Tobias._

* * *

There are many places I expect to see Annabeth.

Walking into the Blank is not one of them. For some reason.

I sit on the muddy ground outside Odysseus's walls and watch her make her way across, her bag slung over her shoulder. I scowl. I expect this, but I don't want it.

"Don't get started on what you want, Tris," Annabeth says as she walks away. "We'll be here for ten years and we both still won't have a clue."

I get to my feet. A force slams into my chest, forcing back down. "Don't follow me, Tris."

I try to stand again, but the force refuses to let me move. "You can't stop me, Annabeth."

"Make me," Annabeth tone is foreign, as if she were talking to someone she'd never met before. I don't know what it is that makes it happen, but it does: I snap.

The weight on my chest lifts, but I push my arms out and feel the gust of air rush past me. I don't know what I'm doing, but it _feels . . . _like the wind is being controlled by me.

The air slams into Annabeth, but she doesn't move. Instead she lifts her arm into the position that it would be in should she want to elbow someone in the side, then jerks it back slightly. The air seems to crash into a wall or force.

Annabeth's eyes are bright. Almost silver. "That," she says, calm. "I did not expect."

My chest is heaving as I suck in breaths and let them out again. I feel like I have run a marathon, but I feel _alive. _The corners of my mouth jerk in a smile, but then they lower to the thin line my mouth has become. My brows draw together, and my knees buckle under me.

A hand catches my elbow, catching me from falling in the mud. Annabeth hauls me to my feet. "We can't go back and get your stuff. They'll be onto me now. We'll buy some clothes at the first proper base we find. Come on."

I try to walk, but I have no strength in me. Annabeth groans in annoyance. "This is what happens when you pick a bad moment to get mad."

"What . . . what did I actually do?"

"You officially became a Legacy. A legacy of Jupiter. In other words: you were an idiot. Come _on_." Whatever joy or lightness that had been in Annabeth's voice evaporates, and she yanks me along. Somehow I find my footing and stumble along next to her long strides.

* * *

The largest complex Annabeth had seen that was Watcher and not Odysseus loomed up in front of them. Running next to it was a highway. She shook Tris's shoulder. She groaned, from fatigue and soreness. "We're here," Annabeth told her.

A day and a night of non-stop walking had brought them 'here'. The place consisted of a trading centre—or 'shop' if you were remarkably old-fashioned—and a motel, surrounded my twelve-foot-thick walls. In other words, Annabeth could barely see the change. She ran a hand through her buzzed hair. "Come on. I have money."

"I didn't think you'd pay for a place," Tris muttered.

"I don't plan to. I pay, we stay; I knock out the receptionist and take more money than we started with. Sound good?"

"If they don't have guards."

"I'm not worried about the guards. I'm worried about what message they'll pass."

She flipped the cover on the security button of the wall. Pressed the button. A small screen flickered on. "Please state your name and label your insignia," the guard's voice came through tinny.

"Annie Mapels. This is my younger sister, Beatrice Maples." She lifted the sleeve of her jacket, showing the Watcher insignia to the screen, then lifted the bottom corner of Tris's to show the mark at the base of the pocket. "Can you let us in now?"

"Please state your heritage."

Tris's eyes went wide, but Annabeth answered a lie smoothly. "I'm a legacy of Nemesis. So is Beatrice here. Our parents were Matt and Delilah Mapels."

The voice paused. Annabeth saw her own face on the screen. Her buzzed hair glimmering like only a thin fuzz over her skull, piercings glinting so that it looked like she had a metal-edged ear. The guard's voice returned: "You may enter the Olympus Plantation now."

Two metal doors emerged from the concrete and swung open. Annabeth walked in, Tris trudging behind her.

Annabeth had expected many things: having guns immediately trained on her and Tris, being swarmed by other criminals—but not this.

What she saw seemed as though she had stepped back into the 21st century. Back when mortals were oblivious and the only real threat was monsters and questionable human ethics. That was what Annabeth dreamed about, most nights. Being able to go back to it.

Inside, there were people milling about, fancy umbrellas and neon lights. Along the inside of the concrete walls were fountains shimmering with drachmas on the bottom. Annabeth started around, wide-eyed. It seemed everyone had forgotten the war here.

"Welcome to Olympus Marketplace."

Annabeth jumped, and saw a woman wearing a shimmering blue gown in front of her. Her dark hair was pinned up with shells and pearls, and her dress had some oyster-patterned shoulder strap.

"Um . . . hi," Tris saved Annabeth from a great deal of trouble. Her first instinct had been to glare at the woman until she cowered in fear.

The woman's smile didn't falter. "Would you like to be shown to your room?"

"Since when do we have a room? We're just crashing," Annabeth snapped. The woman glanced at her, her blue eyes lingering on Annabeth's face. Then she turned back to Tris. "Here at Olympus Marketplace we specialize in our hospitality."

Tris opened her mouth to say something, but Annabeth cut her off. She didn't like where this was going. It was almost as if the woman had "Lotus Hotel and Casino" tattooed on her forehead for Annabeth. "Listen here," Annabeth growled, pointing at the woman and leaning in close. "I don't know what you're playing at, but as far as I'm concerned I'm running from a war. I don't need _accommodation, _I just need a room, and Tris needs one too. And if you have any idea about what Olympus used to be like, then you need a landlord that has a tendency to incinerate people that annoy him on the spot."

The woman's smile finally faltered. She stared up at Annabeth with wide blue eyes. Then something changed in her: her expression diminished, and her eyes turned dull. Within the irises cogs and gears seemed to turn. Colour drained from her face. "Defective."

* * *

**Dun-dun-dunnnnnn! Okay, I know this is ****_stupidly _****short, but I had to end it here because I want to know what you guys think I should do with Clyde and Tobias—should I give them each a POV or should I just ignore Clyde? I feel like giving Clyde one . . . I really just wanna write some Clyde stuff! And I was just thinking the other day how much I missed the Tobias/Tris fluff . . . so yeah.**

**Righto, so, just brace yourself for ****_possibly _****more torure scenes in the next chapter . . . heh . . . heh . . . You know what is just . . . bizarre? I can write torture scenes and even really descriptive murder scenes . . . but I can't do romace. I HAVE TROUBLE JUST WRITING THE FREAKIN "K" WORD!**

**And I have probably ranted about this before but I thought it was important enough that I should rant some more because it was so important.**

******EXTRA COOL AND AWESOME QUESTION******

**Percabeth or Jasper?**

**PERCABETHPERCABETHPERCABETHPERCAVETHHHHHHHHH!**

**That is an epic ship. I SHIP THE CANNON! WHEN I CAN BRING MYSELF TO WRITING ROMANCE! AND MOST OF MY ROMANCE ARE STUPID LITTLE SKITS INVOLVING WATER AND OWLS . . . AND MONSTERS AND VIOLENCE AND SADISM! **

**I like violence too much . . . it can't be healthy. **

**OH! OH! OH! I have to tell you guys this quote:**

**_"Itsy Bitsy Spider Climbed on the Goblin's Glider,_**

**_"Down came the Pumpkin Bomb . . ._**

**_"And the spider _****died." **

**-****_Cat Secrets Chapter 37 (I'm not sure what the real chapter is because there are plenty of AN's and stuff. I do encourage you to check out the story. SPIDERMAN FTW!)_**

**And I have started reading Delirium . . . it is actually ****_really _****interesting. I really like the idea behind it. WHAT THE HELL WOULD I DO IF I COULDN'T LOVE MY DARLING LUCY?! (She's a horse. Schoolie. I rehabilitated her after she had an eye removed. She's my baby. 3 SO NO I AM NOT GAY!)**

**So yeah.**

**OH! AND THANKS SO MUCH TO AndiCrossDaughterofNeptune for pointing out that it's Legacy not Legion! WOW I feel like an idiot now. WHAT KIND OF SELF-RESPECTING FANGIRL MAKES THAT MISTAKE?! URGHHH!**

**I shall now go and fix all of the mentions of legions and legacies. Okay. Let's move on. **

**See ya, guys!**


	23. Chapter 23

***creepy toothy smile* HELLOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!**

**So yeah. HAI!**

**. . . Cat is reading this out loud over my shoulder . . . after commenting over the model's face in the comparitive essay we're doing on a coffee ad. Hmmm . . .**

** Okay guys, a heads-up: i haven't proofread this ****_at all, _****so please bear with me. I have no spare time to edit at all. If you find something that bugs you PM me or tell me in a review and I'll fix it.**

**Disclaimer: I OWN NOTHING EXCEPT MY WORDS AND THE PLOT AND THOSE THINGS. ANNABETH'S TELEKINESIS-SY-SY STUFF IS CAT'S**

* * *

**Clyde was no longer Clyde. **The first thing that gripped him was the . . . _space. _There was no host mind; no resistance; no annoying voice swearing and yelling at you. It was just him, the Eidolon, within a lifeless body.

He didn't remember what happened. He and Tobias—

_Tobias? _he asked. Dread formed in his stomach. No. That wasn't possible. The only way to be removed from a body was very long and very complicated. That was just . . . _impossible._

He felt cold air brush over his arms. Arms? What the hell? So he'd been taken _out _of one body, and he was now in a new one. _Perfect. _Bloody perfect. He shifted onto his side, feeling muscles stiff from death. Yeah, that was a slight downside of going into a dead body. It took a while to get the heart going again.

He slid his feet of the slab of concrete the body was laid on. As his feet touched the ground, it sent a jolt of pins and needles up his legs. The ground was made of ice.

He jumped, curling his legs off the floor. As his hands came down on the concrete again his elbows almost popped. He pulled his legs back onto the slab. He hated having to get a new body. He rubbed his sore elbows, flinching as he felt the bruises rising already.

He looked down at his arms and saw just how skinny they were. Gods, they hadn't made him a _girl, _had they?

He ran a hand through his hair, and found it short, dense and curly. He pulled a lock down and tried to look at it, however that didn't work so he yanked it out.

It was maybe three inches long, curly, and slightly copper, from what he could see in the dim light.

Yep, he was a ginger.

Hell. Yeah.

Still, he didn't like the idea of being some skinny little kid. He was a boy, he knew that much. Thank the gods. A boy that was all skin and bones and ginger hair. The ginger being the highlight. He wished he could see his face, but there were no mirrors.

Then it clicked that he was above _ice. _He leaned over and looked down at the freezing floor.

From what he could see, his face was pale, with sunken cheeks and eyes that looked too big for his face. A nose with a purple bruise on it, and a strange ear. When he reached up to feel it, he felt a split through it. Whatever optimism he ever had died at that moment.

He reached down to touch the ice, because that was a habit of the boy's body he now inhabited. He liked to _touch _things. That thought sent unpleasant images through Clyde's head.

His fingertips brushed the ice—

_The woman stood, a wild grin on her face. Of course. She'd won. Tobias looked down. He wasn't going to let the woman see his face. "Look at me," she growled. Tobias clenched his jaw and glared at the ground. Clyde was gone. That was all gone. He had to look after himself now. He had to . . . no. Tris wasn't an option. _

_"Look at me when I am talking to you, Legacy," the woman snapped. Then she paused, smiled, and tried a new approach. She snorted. "You legacies—you think the godly blood in you makes you _better. _You think that there is you and then there is us. Let me tell you this: that isn't the truth. You don't know what I am, do you?" _

_Tobias scowled. Where was she going with this?_

_The woman gave a cold laugh. "No, you don't, and I don't plan to tell you. But I'll this: in everything there is a fault. A flaw. You don't honestly expect the Watchers and Westers to divide themselves from Gaos, do you?" she gave another laugh—almost like a screech. "Those two will do anything to win. Even if it means siding with them. But then again there are those that believe that Gaos are the better ones. Then there are those that are afraid. You know what that means?"_

_Tobias looked in a different direction, still not looking at her. "It means that there are people deserting you "demigods". Or "legacies" as you say. You cannot win. There is no gain without loss. Gaos have the better goal. You have no idea. Gaos _understand _the world as it is. But you? You petty legacies don't know _anything. _You think that the answer will fall from the sky and land at your feet. But guess what: that's not what happens." The woman gave another laugh, short, like it was caught in her throat along with the ice that gave her voice the hatred. "And you don't want to know what happens."_

_Tobias looked up and stared her down defiantly. "I know what happens. You die. Go to hell or whatever. Yeah, I am a legacy. Just I grew up some beaten kid. I don't think of myself a legacy. Maybe it's _you _that can't understand that." _

_The woman bared her teeth, eyes flashing in anger. "I understand many things. Many things you can't _begin _to realize. Your . . . "girlfiend" seems to realize this."_

_Any defiance left Tobias in that moment. They had hurt Tris. They had _hurt _her—they had _touched _her. Of course he should listen to a _Gaos _Eidolon. He couldn't care less about her. It was all a trick, wasn't it? And how Clyde and let them run away while Tris was left behind. Why? Why had he been so stupid? Why hadn't he looked at her, let her see that he was alive? _Why?

_The woman laughed. A malicious, sadistic laugh. "Ah, you humans. Love is useless. It is nothing but a burden in the world. You have no idea what that little child of a woman has done, had done to her, do you?" the woman gave a wide, icy smile. Her eyes glowed with a dark pleasure. "Why, they questioned her. They asked her where was her god: where was the god she was descended from." _

_Images flashed through Tobias's mind: Tris, her face dripping blood, beaten and bruised; Tris tied to a stake, screaming that she had no god. Tobias's eyes narrowed in rage as he tore at the post he was bound to. _

_Rage is a powerful thing. So when, in his rage he tore free, he launched himself at the woman—_

_Only to be knocked to the ground. A foot pressed against his sternum, crushing the breath out of him. He clawed against it, but he couldn't lift it off. He thought of Eric, whose face he had wanted to punch in thousands of times; of Zeke's snoring; of the feeling he'd had when he had seen what Tris looked like when he arrived at the Erudite complex, following Tris; of the horrible rage that had exploded in him along with his fear when he saw her listless body in Peter's arms. _

_He ground his teeth and shoved the foot off his chest. He flung himself to his feet and threw a punch at the boy. Of course it was the boy. The boy who had sat in the corner and studied him. Shady Boy._

_Shady ducked the punch easily, and then did a spinning kick, knocking Tobias off his feet. But Tobias wouldn't be caught down on the ground again. He jack-knifed to his feet, ignoring the burning feeling in his chest that felt as if he had had acid thrown on it._

_He looked around in the gloom, but neither Shady Boy or the woman were to be seen. He whirled around, blind. The only light was the pale bulb above the post he'd been tied to, but other than that he was completely sightless._

_Behind the post, he saw a gleam. Eyes. Dark eyes._

_Shady Boy._

_He spun, slamming his palms against the wall that had appeared from the darkness. Frantically he searched for a groove; a door—anything that could lead him out. He bumped into something: a person. A body._

_He flinched away from it, as if it had stung him. From under the hair that hung over his eyes, Shady Boy looked at him. His arms were crossed over his chest, a knife sticking out of his hand. "Escaping won't work," he said quietly. He unfolded his arms. Tapped the tip of the knife blade against the damp wall behind him. "Unless death to you is a form of escape."_

_"No," Tobias said, backing away. "It's not."_

_Shady Boy looked at his knife. He rubbed it clean with the sleeve of his jacket. "You know she doesn't want you out."_

_Tobias pounded the wall in frustration. "Of _course _I know that. Why wouldn't I?"_

_"Because if you really wanted to get out, then you would have run." _

_Tobias didn't understand. Shady Boy looked deadly serious. Mind you, he _always _looked deadly serious. "Death is no escape. And neither is life," Shady Boy straightened off the wall, looking down at Tobias. He was a good three inches taller. "'When thou is trapped then thy shall come to thee, when thee is trapped then all of thine hope is with the birds that fly south.'"_

_Shady Boy gave a small nod. "With all the birds that fly south."_

_And then he was gone._

Clyde jumped back, slamming against the wall. What had happened? No idea. What was he meant to do? No idea.

Someone pounded on the door. Clyde jumped again, feeling his skull collide with the wall. Someone wrenched the door open. Tobias's bloody face looked round. "Come on, ginger. Time to go."

Clyde glared at him. "Don't ever call me a ginger."

* * *

**The woman lunges, and Annabeth jumps. **She ducks, swings her forearm out against the woman's shins in an attempt to knock her off her feet, but the woman doesn't move. It's almost as if she's made of steel.

Slowly her face begins to morph: the skin turns clear, with condensation built up on the other side. Gears and cogs turn within her. She's a machine. An automation.

"Defective, defective, defective," the machine-woman chants. Then her voice rises to a scream. "_DEFECTIVE DEFECTIVE DEFECTIVE!"_

Annabeth's eyes flash as she pulls her knife from her pocket. She darts away from the machine-woman's attempt to grab her and drives the knife into her back.

The machine stops. Shudders. Then all the cogs start to churn again. Her head swivels around on her torso so she's still looking at Annabeth. Her clear face and condensation-white cheeks make her look like some ghostly demon. "_DEFECTIVE! 1375 DEFECTIVE! DEEEEEEE-FECCCCCCCCC-TIVVEEEEE!" _she screams again. Annabeth tries to yank the knife from the machine-woman's chest, but suddenly a cog-driven hand is clasped around the hilt.

Annabeth's expression jolts me out of my hesitation. I lunge forward and drive my own knife into the back of the woman's head. It jerks back, throwing me to the ground. Her head shudders and jerks, but then begins to churn again. Steam billows out of her right eye socket.

She makes more grabs at Annabeth with her free hand; for a machine she can move amazingly fast. Annabeth darts away, just fast enough to stay ahead of the machine. The woman has recovered her feet movement, and now she and Annabeth move in a deadly dance of who can kill the other. The machine-woman has stopped shrieking 'defective' and is now focused on decapitating Annabeth.

I try to sit up, try to get to my feet, but for a horrible moment I can't move; I can't lift a finger.

Fear blossoms in my chest. I broke my neck, I broke my neck, I broke my neck . . . I clench my jaw to fight off tears. I will _not _cry. And I will _not _become a vegetable just because I freaking broke my neck. I'm not just about to sit back and let everyone else take the risks.

My fingers start to tingle. Memories rise in my mind; my mother, her shirt blooming with splotches of red; my father, killing when he had been Abnegation; Caleb holding a gun at me. The tingling spreads up my arms, like pins and needles but different: where pins and needles these are hot, as if they're charged with electricity.

My vision blurs for a second, and then it comes into focus; almost ten times sharper than it used to. I realize with a start that I am on my feet again, although I have no recollection of getting off the ground. I can see the world moving in slow motion; can see everyone around me. I can see the small, slow-moving cloud of steam rising from the machine-woman's head.

From the corner of my eye I can see black-clad people coming towards us. They stand out like a sore thumb in this place, full of colour. I can't see their faces, but I can see their limbs moving slowly, forcing through the air as if it was made of jelly.

I feel my body pivot, feel my heel dig into the ground as my arms tighten against my chest. I feel one leg lift, then suddenly the world jumps back into speed. My foot collides with the machine-ladies' back, shattering the glasslike skin she has. It smashes into the cogs and gears that make her run. Something bright flashes, and it feels like my stomach has fallen to my feet. The lady whirrs, splutters and coughs. My foot comes back to the ground, but my knees buckle. Every inch of me aches. Something heavy shatters ahgainst the ground next to me. I double over, hugging my stomach.

"Tris," Annabeth's hand is on my shoulder. Some part of me wants it to be light, caring. But Annabeth's hand is urgent; forceful. "Tris, come on. Get up."

I want to, I know I _have _to, but there is no energy left in me. I can't find it in my to move.

Annabeth's hand goes painfully tight. She swears. The black-clothed people. They must be the people responding to "defective".

Her hand is torn from my shoulder. "17324, Tris! 17324!"

I don't hear it right, I don't think. Because at that moment it all goes blank.

* * *

**_Yolanda paced._**_ Her heart hammered in her chest. The Legacy had escaped. So had the Eidolon. And that—that _boy _she had hired had not done a thing! She growled, and that growl became a yell, and that yell a scream. "How could he have escaped?" she demanded. Her frustration was quickly turning into fury. "How could he have gotten past _you_?"_

_Nathaniel's eyes looked up at her, but his face remained tilted down. His eyes looked so dark she doubted his sense of ethics. Mind you, that _was _why she hired him. "Ask yourself that instead," he snapped. Nathaniel rarely spoke, and when he did it was usually because he was about to kill you. Barely anyone knew what his voice sounded like._

_Fear gathered in Yolanda's stomach. She had hired him because he was cheap; because Screech had recommended him. Screech had never met him, though. So how did that work? It didn't. The Eidolon—Clyde, in the legacy's body—he had hired because he could hold his own. That was the person her client so desired. And he had _escaped.

_But the fear wasn't of the client. It was Nathaniel._

_His voice wasn't anything Yolanda had expected. It was dark, too dark to be remotely human; or even monstrous. It reminded her of dark shadows: you don't know what's in there until you stray too close. But Nathaniel's voice beyond a category: it was too dark even for evil, or sinister. It was something else entirely._

_Yolanda swallowed. She would _not _show fear. She was a dracaenae-legacy hybrid. She did not show fear that easily. She clasped her hands so tightly it felt like her knuckles were popping out. _

_"I hired you," she said slowly, sternly. "Because they said you were good, that you—"_

_"No one _ever _said I was 'good'." Nathaniel spat the word out like it tasted bad in his mouth. His dark eyes weren't dark anymore, she realised—they were predatory. Like a predator looking at its prey. She did not intend to die._

_"I was referring to your skills," she snapped, her frustration masking the terror building within her. She could happily murder, kill innocents, but Nathaniel . . . he was definitely _not _innocent. Not anything she had ever seen before. She suddenly realised why he avoided eye-contact. He was skilled at hiding himself. "But it seems even these 'skills' could not stop him escaping!"_

_Nathaniel pushed himself off the wall. He took a step closer, staring down at her. "'Skills' isn't a good way of putting it. He's gone. You separated them. You did what A asked. That was the end of it."_

_"He was coming to inspect!" she yelled. Nathaniel's predatory eyes didn't move. "There won't be anything to inspect but a dead body, let me tell you."_

Annabeth bolted upright, feeling guns immediately aim for her. Her heart was thumping in her chest, crashing against her ribs—that was the same person! The same person that had said that hell was not bloody, to tell Bacchus to tell Percy his path would be hard.

And . . . Yolanda . . . she had referred to as "Tobias".

Annabeth hadn't felt fear in a long time. But she was sure she was feeling it now. Heart pumping, palms sweating, blood feeling cold as if it were ice. She stared ahead of her, seeing the mirror. She was in a square room. In front of her was a tray—with a single bread roll on it.

The image of "Nathaniel's" eyes haunted her, almost like a mental ghost. Black eyes staring down at her, emotionless eyes; eyes that didn't care.

They looked like her eyes.

She pushed herself back against the cold white-tiled wall. The top half of each wall were mirrors. She was being observed. Like a lab rat.

She narrowed her eyes at the bread. Did they expect her to eat it? No way. She wasn't eating anything they gave her. Never.

_No one ever said I was _good . . . Annabeth shivered. It sounded so . . . real. What side was she on? What side was good and what was evil? Was there even a difference?

She looked across at the bread. Pale bread; slightly undercooked. She remembered back when she'd been younger, and the Athena Cabin had made their own bread. Hers had gotten completely burnt and turned to charcoal, but Malcolm had given his to her; his was slightly undercooked. A little bit burned in the one corner.

Back then she'd been too young to worry about her side. The one she had grown up in had been her side. It had always been the gods versus the monsters.

But if there were no gods . . . shouldn't there be no monsters?

She ground her teeth, balled her fists. She knew that she had dreamt something; something important. She just didn't know how it applied to her. How _did _it apply to her?

It didn't, she reminded herself.

"Are you people just going to watch me?" she called out. There was no response. Only the silence she had expected. She laughed; a cold, humourless laugh. "You'll have to do better than that if you're trying to convince me that you're not there."

She could hear their minds; some were small and wary, others were plain curious; some wanted her dead. She wanted out. She had told Tris what to do. 17342. _Be ready when I come for you._

A smile curled her lips. She hadn't always been this Annabeth. She had once been something else; someone who was sweet and strong.

Now? No. She wasn't that Annabeth. She had lost . . . him; she had lost her home; she had lost her time, her life, her honour, even herself.

_A _lot _harder, _she told them all.

* * *

Clyde. Tobias. Clyde. Redhead. Clyde. Tobias. Clyde. Redhead.

Who was he again?

He was Clyde—who inhabited Tobias's body—wait, no, wasn't he a redhead? No, he _definitely _had to be Tobias . . . but then why was Tobias walking next to him? Completely in his own body?

Tobias looked across at him from the corner of his eye. The whole back of his t-shirt was stained red. "You look confused," he noted.

"What was your first clue?" Clyde snapped sarcastically, wiping his palms on his jeans.

"I'd have to say it was the face."

Clyde glared at him.

Tobias shrugged and looked away. "You look really skinny, just so you know."

"Oh gee, it wouldn't at all be because this body was dead for a few weeks."

"Was it?" Tobias's eyes glinted with curiosity. Clyde could see how he'd worked with the computers for so long in Dauntless. "How does that work?"

"The Eidolon doesn't need a living host. It bring sthe body back to life, in a sense. Gets the systems working again and then the mind is ours."

Tobias looked away. "I see."

Clyde didn't understand what he'd said. "Did I—?"

"But then . . . how am I alive?"

Clyde looked down at the ground. He didn't know. But he knew that he and Tobias would try harder than they were now to figure it out.

_A _lot _harder, _a voice said.

* * *

**Yarp . . . well, I was having some angst issues so yeah. I discovered that no one had been looking after Lucy's feet on weekdays and they'd been riding her with a swollen back foot . . . I SHALL KILL THEM ALL! MWAH!**

**So yeah. **

**Yeah . . . I'm trying to find a way to buy Lucy from her crappy owner that let her lose an eye. -_- I HATE HIM. GRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR.**

**So yeah. Lucy is a dressage horse. NOT A JUMPING HOSE. MWAH.**

**Wow Cat just made me look at the slogan for one of the ads that we're comparing . . . hmmm.**

******EXTRA AWESOME AND COOL QUESTION******

**What do you think when you hear the slogan ****_"Go to your happy place"?_**

**I have a wrong mind so I automatically go into that mode. Don't judge me.**

**Righto, guys, until then, try and stay sane and REVIEW! I literally get in trouble so often because I go nuts when I get a new review and - OH MY GOD WE'RE ON 103 REVIEWS, PEOPLE! EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEK!**

**-Owl **


	24. Chapter 24

**HELLO MY LOVELIES!**

**Well, it ****_has _****been a while, hasn't it? Yeah, uh . . . sorry 'bout that. But just out of curiosity, do you know what it's like to be DROWNING?! IN WORK?! So yeah. I'm sorry, but this is the soonest I have gotten to posting. And I ****_know _****this is really short because I spent, like, the last 3 weeks working on a chapter and then I just read it and decided, THIS IS SHIT.**

**So yeah. Started a new chapter. Then when I was happy with the start I FORGOT TO SAVE THE DOCUMENT. So, third time lucky. **

**Not to mention subject selections and orals and English tasks and art problems and I GOT TO RIDE LUCY! WHOOOOOOO-**

**Cat: So, yeah. She's gone bye-bye. **

**Owl: Sleepy-sleep time. . .**

**Cat: *Curls in a ball, LIKE A CAT* Boss . . .**

**Owl: *snatches keyboard* The horror of Maths class . . .**

**Anyway, REVIEW REPLIES! TO THE GUEST THAT HAS REVIEWED ALL MY CHAPTERS I LOVE YOU RANDOM REVIEWER! WHOO! (I just hope you're the same person. I apologize if that fantasy is incorrect.**

**Guest chapter 7: Well . . . I usually fall asleep at 5:30pm from all the work I have . . . heh. THANK YOU, THOUGH!**

**Guest chapter 9: Yes . . . remember from Camp Jupiter? The brand thing? Yeah, that . . . and thank you :3 I like being evil. It's a specialty I wonder if I should put that in the job description . . . *Must be evil* And to that last part, "Haters gonna hate. Potatoes gonna potate." **

**Guest chapter 10: Yes, we all love that little imp. :D**

**Guest chapter 11: Yes, I love that song. And Cat does too. SOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO much. I guess it sorta does fit that . . . hmmm.**

**Possibly-Another-Guest-Chapter-10: Sorry dude, no spoilers. But not exactly. Nico's a Keeper, remember?**

**Guest chapter 12: Yes, I did, and yes, that is why. Sorry if it gets annoying but that's my way of writing and grammar. *Looks over at Cat* Don't drool on the table, just because you dropped your pen is no excuse.**

**Guest chapter 13: ^-^ Thank you! I do love making Percy a complete smartass. **

**Guest chapter 14: Awww, shame. That is a good show. Rowan? Like a boy? Heh, I'll tell you this: I am 100% sure of my gender and that is that it is a girl. If you were referring to the female use of Rowan (I don't know if that is possible) then by all means, YAY! (Wow I sound like a bitch today . . . MATHS I HATE YOU! Sorry, I'm not really this mean just yeah. Maths. -_-)**

**Guest chapter 15: Yes, I rather am. I like to say that I have a venting story, but in truth ALL my stories are venting stories. So yeah. When I feel depressed and stuff, my writing is depressed, too. And angry and stuff. I just pour everything into my writing. :D Yes, Leo is alive, just possessed . . . I'M NOT DONE WITH THE LITTLE IMP!**

**Guest chapter 16: WHERE THE BLOODY HELL ****_DID _****I COME UP WITH CLYDE?! No idea. I was just writing and was like, yeah, let's make him Clyde. So yeah. No . . . never heard of them. FEEL FREE TO DRIVE ME INSANE! I DON'T KNOW IF I CAN GET ANYMORE INSANE BUT YOU'RE WELCOME TO TRY, FRIEND!**

**Guest chapter 17: YAY! COOKIE! Haha I will make sure to watch those! And listen to the song! Yes, I know about that name. I can't help but feel that it let the series down . . . -_-**

**Guest chapter 18: That's a shame. When you ****_can, _****do. It is really good. THEY'RE ALL GOOD. YAY.**

**Guest chapter 19 (I'm getting tired . . .): Heh. No spoilers with Leo's alliance. I'll just say nothing is set in concrete yet. :D**

**Guest chapter 20 (YES! FINISHED! WHOOOOOOOO!): Yes, that is ****_such _****a depressing movie. Visually very beautiful, but very, very depressing. I still have no idea what the purpose of the story was. Sometimes he hates religion and then he's a member of all of them? Meh.**

_**"Fitting in was not for me, **_

_**"So I**_

_**"Deviate**_

_**"From society."**_

* * *

**_Chapter 24: Deviate from Society_**

**I wake to a headache. **I don't think I've ever had one this bad before. I try to lift my arm to rub my eyes, but as soon as I do it feels like my head has been dipped in lava. I grit my teeth and try to force it up, pushing against the pain. But it roars in my eyes and I let if fall, defeated. I focus on my breathing.

Then something catches in my throat, making a deep ache through my chest. I blink my watering eyes. That pain is nothing to what I have felt before. The pain that I carry with me like a second skin. I realise, then, that the pain has offered me a distraction. For that brief moment I did not think of the pain I have.

I lift my arm again, but this time I succeed, relishing in the relief it causes. It blocks out everything, so everything is white hot and flooded with pain. I do not feel the pain in my chest. For this brief moment, I feel nothing but the burning white-hot feeling under my skin.

I rub my eyes—too hard. I see stars. I push myself to a sitting position and let myself fall against the wall. I need to keep moving. It hurts. It hurts to stop—it doesn't hurt me when I move. I use my hands to claw at the wall, haul myself to my feet.

Burning hot rods. I'm standing on them. Skewered through the muscle and bone of my legs. I laugh. I feel light, like I'm not fire and I can burn up. A smile lifts my lips.

And then it stops. My legs buckle beneath me, and I slam into the ground. I feel a slight breeze on my face, just as I feel the pressure in my chest rise again. I choke back a sob.

And then I hear something: a voice.

_"You can hear me cry; see my dreams all die,_

_"From where you're standing, on your own . . ." _

I crawl toward sthe sound, press my ear against the draught and hear it more clearly. The voice is beautiful, it sounds like they are truly broken.

_"It's so quiet here, and I feel so cold,_

_"This house no longer,_

_"Feels like home." _

I close my eyes tightly. I haave nowhere to call home. I have no reason. I let out a shuddering breath. From where the sound is coming from, I hear a door open and a gruff voice say, "Shut it, McLean."

The door slams shut. There's a small sigh. It's a woman's voice—slightly older than I may have first thought. Maybe in her early twenties.

But this is not her song. This is something else. Something tugs at my throat—she has spoken her pain. Now it's my turn.

_"When I was young, I saw the good king's rule,_

_"When I was young, barely whipped a mule,_

_"But when I was older, the good king died,_

_"And when I was older, the new king lied." _

I would never sing. Not in my right mind. But this wasn't my right mind. There was something about this person; something that didn't make sense. There was s short, quiet breath.

Then they continued.

_"First he said the kingdom was plenty, _

_"Then he said that God had send he,_

_"He said that the other kingdoms' had envy,_

_"For his great court, made up of lies." _

I barely register the world around me. This is not something that blocks it out; this is not a reprieve. It draws my attention away. Few things have been able to do that.

_"The court of lies, flying like doves,_

_"Bloodied like a murderer's gloves,_

_"When one by one that good men died,_

_"And one by one another lied." _

The other person doesn't continue. I want to continue to the next verse, something that makes me want to go on and finish it, but the other girl interrupts. "Who are you?" they ask.

I am right: they are a girl. And they don't sound too old, either. Maybe late teens—early twenties. Her voice is beautiful; I don't think I have ever heard something so lovely before.

And then it all clicks with a horrible, frightening clarity.

"What's your name?" she asks. "Mine's Piper—Piper McLean."

* * *

Annabeth had researched Chinese Water Torture once. She'd started a project with Cabin 6 on how to counter some of the worst tortures. They had never managed to get enough time for Chinese Water Torture, or CWT, as it had become.

_Drip._

She counted to ten. Ten mortifying seconds.

_Drip. _

How had it come to this? She had just been annoying them . . . and then they had started getting . . . _bored._

_Drip._

They had started with burning her with brands, not that that had done much. After the first one she didn't even care.

_Drip._

They had wanted to see how she coped. They had wanted to see how tolerant she was.

_Drip._

_Annabeth . . . _said a voice. Annabeth's muscles froze. It felt like every fibre in her body was standing on end. This was impossible, this was impossible. She wasn't insane, the torture wasn't working—she was still thinking clearly!

There was the laugh. _His _laugh. _You always were so practical . . ._

"Shut up," she sounded like she was chocking. She couldn't breathe through the lump in her throat. Her eyes were wide, like a frightened animal's.

_Drip._

He laughed again—this time a cold, humourless laugh. One that she had never heard before, one that he had only ever made ever so slightly once, when he was so bitter and fed-up with all the crap he'd gotten from the gods and the Fates and everything, when they were locked away in Tartarus and he'd laughed: _now I'm finally dead. They can't do much more to me, can they? Actually, that's stupid, they'll find a way._

_Drip._

They had. There had been something that made his life even worse. First it was the Wraith, and then it was him dying all over again. Bastards.

_Drip._

She remembered his eyes; green eyes; smiling eyes. And then they'd fallen into Tartarus, and that was that. No more smiling. They had just become stormy green eyes that always had something else in them; something that he hated. And then they'd turned black, and then, for the briefest moment . . . they were green again.

And then he was dead.

_Drip. _

_I'm not dead, you should know better._

Annabeth's heart was pumping so fast her ears were ringing. "You're dead, you're dead, you're dead . . ." she muttered, chanted. "I watched you die!" she shrieked. She was hysterical now, she wasn't making sense. There was no sense in her mind. She was a fevered, terrified animal. A caged animal.

_Drip._

_Did you really think I would die and leave you that easily? You gave up on me, Annabeth._

"I _never _gave up on you!" she screamed. It nearly deafened her, but she couldn't care. "_You _gave up on me. You let yourself die. You _sacrificed _yourself. _You let me!"_

She let a scream. She tried to tear her arms from the restraints, but she couldn't think; she couldn't get the message to move to her limbs. She could only scream and struggle as she fought against the force of her own mind collapsing in on itself.

_Drip._

* * *

Tobias watched the people walk by. How had this happened? One moment he had been snatched . . . and then the next it was all blank. He rubbed his forehead. Had he always been crouching in the shadows of the city? No, he'd been with Clyde . . .

Wait, where was Clyde?

Who was Clyde, again?

Tobias rubbed his eyes so hard he saw stars. There was something wrong. Something fundamentally wrong. He remembered Gaos, he remembered Odysseus . . .

What was that?

He fell back against the wall. This wasn't right. He'd been remembering something . . . he thought of Dauntless, of Amanda Ritter and how her last name was really Grace and of Percy and Annabeth and . . . who?

What was going on?

He was so confused he couldn't think. There was something wrong. It was like he was being . . . like every memory was being erased from his head.

He remembered Dauntless. He remembered changing his faction to escape the wrath of his father. Marcus was a lying, sadistic bastard. And then his mother who had left him.

He waited, he didn't know what for, but he had a feeling of dread in his stomach that something bad would happen, but he didn't know what.

Couldn't _remember _what.

I gripped his head. There was something wrong in his mind. It felt like the foundations were crumbling away. He ran a hand through his hair urgently. Where was he? He had no idea. He bit his lip. This wasn't Dauntless, this wasn't Chicago . . . where . . . where was he?

"Oi, To, get up."

Tobias got to his feet immediately. Why? He had no idea who the guy—

Yes, he did. Shaggy dark hair, hiding his eyes, the same shady look. He knew him. How come he couldn't place him?

The boy's eyes looked him over. "Yeah, they got you. And Clyde. Come on, then."

"Why'd you call me To?" he blurted.

The boy turned. "Why'd you call me Shady Boy?"

Shady Boy. Something rang in his head, like a bell. Hollow, empty. That was important—he _knew _it was important, but he couldn't imagine why.

Shady Boy muttered a curse that sounded something like "Bring you tray."

He had a feeling that wasn't the whole thing.

Shady Boy started walking, and Tobias ran to catch up. "Explain," he snapped.

"There's nothing _to _explain." Shady Boy said back. "You forgot. Because of that bloody scheming bastard."

"Which one?"

"Don't ask," Shady Boy snapped. He grabbed Tobias by the arm and yanked him into an alley. In a split second someone hit the ground. They'd jumped from a building.

They'd landed on their feet.

Blazing red eyes stared at them. The figure couldn't be human—it was all bony limbs, hunched over and frothing at the mouth.

Shady Boy's face was stony. "Crap," he muttered.

"Well, it has to be bad if it's coming from you." Tobias gave up trying to tame his fear.

Shady Boy looked at him from the corner of his eye, still scowling. "Crap for you. I thought I might say it since you're shitting yourself."

Tobias scowled, but at that moment the creature dropped to all fours, and Tobias noticed long finger-like talons that were as long as his torso.

_Crap._

* * *

Clyde had heard of amnesia.

Back in the 21st century it had been a game meant to make the gamer completely shit themselves. **(A/N: Unless you're like me and squeal with happiness when you play. Don't ask. –Owl) **

But it was a disease, usually provoked by an injury, that caused the parts of the brain that store memories to become corrupted, in a sense, and some of the memories that are held are lost.

He couldn't remember much about anything, other than who he was. And he remembered Tobias (how could he forget being in that guy's head?) and the hasty removal and escape, and then . . .

Nothing.

He tried to sit up. _Tobias? _

Silence.

Clyde began to freak. This wasn't right. Where was he? What was he doing here?

Dread began to form in his stomach, but he swallowed it. That was a folk tale. From the demigods, for Gaos's sake.

A voice filtered into the room. Clyde struggled against his restraints, but with every tug they became tighter and tighter.

_"Itty Bitty Demon,_

_"Came to his chosen,_

_"Itty Bitty Demon,_

_"Made sure they were closed-in."_

Clyde swallowed, hard. This was the child's version.

_"Itty Bitty Demon,_

_"Watched them shriek and plea,_

_"Itty Bitty Demon,_

_"Went and murdered thee." _

Clyde forced his head back against the table. The Demon was fictional. Designed to make superstition. It was nonsense.

_"Itty Bitty Demon came up from hell,_

_"And warned the others as they fell,_

_"Left a mark on those he picked,_

_"To drag them to his hellish pit."_

Clyde clenched his eyes. This was crap, this was crap, this was crap.

_"Itty Bitty Demon warned thee not to lie,_

_"To one's self, where their demons lie,_

_"For those who do not listen, _

_"They watched their blood glisten,_

_"As he heard their itty bitty demons,_

_"Cry out for their deaths."_

_Oh, shit._

* * *

_Piper McLean. Piper McLean. Piper McLean. _

"You're dead," I blurt.

Piper laughs, bitterly. "We all are, don't kid yourself."

"No, I mean—you're _dead_."

Piper sighs. "Well, I'm not."

"Why not?"

Piper pauses. I clench my fists. I have endured the unbearable, and now _this_?

"I wanted to die. Everyone thought I'd died of a broken heart. I wish I had, believe me. No; instead I'm stuck out here."

"How?" I basically spit. Life and all its bitterness.

"The Mist and all its bloody cruelty. And my own stupidity. I tried to kill myself. I went out into the night, and they'd been waiting, and then they took me. Tortured me at first, until I begged them to stop and my Charmspeaking worked. Then their leader realised that I was worth more than just simple torture. And so they started experimenting. With my age. And now I'm stuck. Can't die but I can't live either."

"Thalia . . . she said you were dead," I splutter, remembering that fateful day looking at the pictures in the hall. "I remember seeing you. You looked . . . older."

"Tell me about it," Piper said. "Even when you can't see my face, you know I'm older. Who are you, anyway? You know Thalia, so I'm assuming you're part of the Watchers."

I let out a shaky breath. "I'm not sure you want to know who I am."

Piper takes in a sharp breath. "You're her—the Legacy."

"Who?" I am genuinely surprised now. I'm not famous—or infamous, for that matter.

"The one they're all talking about—the one from Chicago. The one that can summon lightning. You're . . . is it Priyanka? Chris?"

"Tris," I correct her. She lets out a pent-up breath. "So it _is _you."

"I don't see why I'm so important." I close my eyes, trying to rid myself of the feeling of them burning. "I'm just some Legacy. _You're _the one from the Seven."

Piper lets out a laugh then, a real, ringing laugh. Like it's legitimately funny. "Tell me about it." Then she stops laughing. "Tell me about what the world looks like out there. And where you're from. What happened?"

And so I begin to tell her, bit by bit, I spill even some of the darkest and most painful secrets I have kept locked away from even myself.

* * *

The water isn't cold anymore. And it isn't water. She isn't lying down, she's hanging upside down, shackled at the ankles.

Annabeth let out a gurgling sob. The savage slash on her forehead throbbed as all the blood rushed to her head. Her feet were tingling, and the drips on her toes were enough to drive her insane.

It wasn't water.

It was her blood.

**(A/N: Um . . . yeah, I made this torture up. Um . . . feel free to use, even if it is entirely barbaric . . . should I rate this story M? I think I need to, with all the tortures in this . . . please tell me if the Blood Torture's too much. I did make one of my "friends" sick when I told it to her . . . and that was back when it was still being refined. **

**Some people are so squeamish. –Owl)**

She chocked out another sob as the warm blood hit the bare skin of her feet. It was amazing how the simplest things could be so _painful. _

They'd already taken the rings from her ears. One by one, they had ripped them out. She hadn't made a noise. But _this_ . . . this wasn't natural. She was hanging upside down, with her own blood being used to torture her.

She remembered researching when people had had their feet tickled while they were shackled down until they went mad. This was much worse. She couldn't _describe_ it.

It wasn't even a drip anymore. It was more like a _thud. _Or _thunk._

_Thunk._

Annabeth closed her eyes to keep the tears running up over her face. It was maddening, feeling the tears run into the hollows of her eye sockets before running onto her forehead.

There were footsteps. Footsteps coming into the room.

_Thunk._

The shuffle of denim, and the clinking of a zip. "Hello, Annabeth."

It was him again. _Him._

She clenched her hands, her jaw. Felt the muscles of her stomach tighten. Like she was trying to fold in on herself. Suddenly she was cold, and the blood was like a spike of ice being driven through her foot.

"I know you can hear me," he continued. "Why did you give up on me?" he sounded angry; bitter. He sounded like he hated her.

She couldn't help it. She let out a sob, "You left _me_."

Once the sob was out she couldn't hold back. Horrible wretched tears ran down her face and sobs ripped from her throat.

_Thunk._

"This is what you are," he said. "A pathetic lump of a demigod."

_Thu—_

The room made noises like glass sliding to a stop in mid-air, the shimmering, surreal sound. Everything seemed to freeze; the blood just touching her foot, the presence of him, the shackles on Annabeth's ankles.

When everything stops, comes to a halt . . .

Look how easy they are . . .

To break.

* * *

The creature hissed. Foam hit the ground. Tobias felt cold down to his bones; his nerves cracked like ice. Shady Boy cracked his knuckles and leaned back against the wall. "Go on," he said casually. "I'll wait here while you finish the guy off."

The creature was coiling upon itself. Preparing to spring. Tobias fumbled for a weapon. Where was it where was it where was it?!

"Oh, did you need a weapon?" Shady Boy looked too content watching him panic. "I believe there are these fleshy things on the end of your arms."

The creature sprung.

But not for Tobias.

Mid-air its eyes settled on Shady Boy and it soared towards him. Shady Boy looked up lazily, and then at the last minute he was suddenly gone. He was standing next to Tobias. Strong hands gripped his shoulders—they almost burned. "Your turn."

He was hurtling towards the monster, and suddenly the red light in its eyes disappeared and he was looking into deep, bottomless, pityless eyes.

Like the Wraith.

Images swarmed in his head, all drawn by the creature's gaze. And then it lunged.

Tobias was too confused to move. He couldn't move. Black eyes seemed to glow, almost blinding as the shape lunged, talons outstretched to slice through his throat—

A hand grabbed the corner of the creature's foamy mouth and yanked it off course. Shady Boy swung a leg up and kicked the monster he had torn from its path and sent it sprawling down the lane. The creature rolled, got up, and sprung again.

Frills opened up on the sides of the creature's throat. It hissed, fangs showing—

Shady Boy ducked and grabbed the creature's back leg, then threw the monster to the ground. Before it could do anything, before it could raise it's talons in some way, before Tobias could even realise what was happening . . .

Shady Boy grabbed the monster by the corner of its mouth and yanked it so savagely that the neck snapped.

The monster lay lifeless, flesh slowly peeling away like paint.

Shady Boy stood and walked back over. "I cheated," he said. "Used the feet as well."

Tobias could only stare, wide-eyed and in horror at the wrath of this . . . this _boy. _"How did you do that?"

"Nuchines is a rigorous teacher. Now come on."

"Noon-chimes what?"

"Come _on,_" Shady Boy snapped and grabbed Tobias's arm. "Now, listen to me. They can't know I'm here. Once they do things will get _much _worse."

Tobias snatched his arm away. "Why will it matter for you?" But already he knew; there was someone out there that was after him, and once he knew he was here, he would send more and more and put the world through hell. But _why_?

"Well," Shady Boy said. "If you had access to what I did, you would be scared. You don't know who I am, _Tobias Eaton. _But I know _everything _about you. I know that you used to count every imperfection on Marcus's face when he beat you to try and find proof that he went through it too. I know you used to be afraid of curtains, and I _know _about the poems you wrote to your mother after she left you." Shady Boy's face remained stony, which was all it tended to do. "And I am _not _telepathic."

Tobias stumbled backwards. "You can't know that."

"I do," Shady Boy said. "And unless you want to share that information with anyone, I suggest you _do what I say._" Blackmail. He was being blackmailed.

But Shady Boy hadn't even listed the worst he'd done.

"Thinking of that woman, are you?"

Tobias's vision tunnelled. He saw himself holding the gun at the woman. He hadn't ever told Tris why she was in his Fear Landscape. It was because he murdered her.

* * *

Clyde bit his lip and forced against the restraints. Somehow they knew. They were them. They were meant to be _extinct. _Clyde couldn't control his panic. He remembered how Tobias had always told him to focus on the small, doable things.

_And then panic._

Clyde breathed in. As much as his lungs could take and his ribs were stretched too far so they hurt. And then he let it out. Again he went until he felt like his chest was about to cave in. He didn't breathe through his nose. _That's just stupid, _one of his Eidolon teachers had said.

He didn't remember that much about his time in training; his life had really only begun when he had been implanted.

That was also when it had appeared to die.

Life was too short to screw up.

_Tick, tock, goes the clock,_

_And all the years they fly . . ._

_Tick, tock, and all too soon;_

_We must surely die._

* * *

**You're allowed to hate me. I haven't had any flames in a while . . .**

**Songs used in order:**

**So cold - Ben Cocks**

**Tick Tock (Vocal Track) - Doctor Who season 6**

**The good king or whatever I made up. Whoo. **

**And now I just missed some important formular for an Annulus . . . crap.**

**So yeah. I'm not going to apologize for the torture scenes, because a) I already have and b) I LOVE WRITING THEM TOO MUCH. GAH.**

******EXTRA COOL AND AWESOME QUESTION YES I KNOW THAT'S WRONG******

**What has been your favorite moment as a fangirl?**

**YOU MAY SEE MINE NEXT CHAPTER IF YOU SAY THE WORDS "Codfish Joe" IN A REVIEW.**

**So . . . yeah. Discussing favorite colours with Cat. And neglecting Maths work so I CAN POST THIS CHAPTER FOR YOU PATIENT EPIC PEOPLE. WHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO.**

**I AM RIDING LUCY I AM RIDING LUCY I AM RIDING LUCY AND SHE IS THE BEST HORSE EVER WHOOOOOOOOOOOOO!**

**I've taken over care of her scabs and feet and already she's better. Now she seriously needs a farrier. Any longer and she will start to get Laminitic. I've been screaming at the owner for ages and finally he's getting a farrier. THANK GOD.**

**I wish he'd just sell his horses so my stress level would go down. -_-**

**Hehe.**

**Unitil the next chapter,**

**I may be sadistic but I have some form of conscience,**

**-Owl**

**AND REMEMBER TO ANNOY YOUR FRIENDS BY SAYING "WHOO." FOR EVERYTHING. **

**WHOO.**


	25. Chapter 25

**Well hello there dear readers! I have finally gunned out about 7,000 and a bit words, so I hope you enjoy! I'm ****_so _****sorry about being the clumsy idiot I am, but yeah. So, I have officially rated this story M for the f-bombs, swearing, violence and the general themes in it, because trust me, it gets even worse. I like to think of this as the part of the roller coaster where we all crap our pants as we go into this dark cavern thingy and get thrown around. Whoo.**

**(Cat got me hooked on Young Justice and I have recently had my heart broken . . . shattered . . . and the small pieces trod on and fought on by the Young Justice Team and their cruel, evil, evil, writers. It's truly painful holding back what happens. The good side? SPITFIRE! The bad side? Um, well, uh . . . *chokes back sobs* I WON'T SAY ANYTHING ELSE, DAMMIT!)**

**Okay, so, I'm guessing you all got a PM when you reviewed the last chapter, and I said something about my face being screwed up? That was being bitten by a horse. And by horse I mean Lucy. On the face. **

**Everyone says, "Dude, that's what happens with horses, get over it," and maybe that's true, but it still hurts because it freaking just mentally hurts that I have spent money on Lucy, worried whether she's cold at night with the rugs I'd bought her, and then BOOM! she bites me. She actually bit me three times, once on the eye (literally a millimeter from the eyeball. A bit lower and I would have been blind in my right eye), once under my arm, where there's a massive scar now, and once on my forehead where it hurt for ages for me to have expressions. So yeah. **

**That's my pain for the last few weeks, in which I wrote angsty and truly depressed and dark stuff, so yeah. Let us move on! **

**Review Replies: **

**(Chapter 24):**

**Sephie: Okay, I need to explain this. Sephie, when I try to reply to that with my email address, it sends the email to the fanfiction site, since you're using a Guest email. It's a bit annoying, but that's the way it works. If you wanted to give me your email I would be more than happy to talk to you!**

**Sephie: Yes, I have read that. It's hilarious, isn't it? And yeah, I'm skipping some because I'm eager to post so yeah. **

**Alee V: well, extreme detail and gruesome methods of torture are my style of writing, so I'll have issues changing it. So, I have gone with the simple solution and made it M for violence, torture and swearing. .3. Whoo.**

**Sephie: Utopias are hell in disguise. That is the only utopia I will accept. THERE IS NO SUCH THING AS A UTOPIA. IT IS THE LAND OF MARY-SUES AND I REFUSE TO ACKNOWLEDGE THAT. GAH! *glances at Mary-Sue my mind has conjured up* Ohhhh shiiii -**

**Sephie: POSTING NOW DON'T WORRY!**

**Knightlark: Haha, good one. They all seem to sound the same anyway. :D **

**So I believe most of you said Codfish Joe . . .**

**My best moment as a fangirl? ****_Where to start . . . ?_**

**Number 1 would have to be meeting Cat.**

**And then Cat introducing me to PJO and Divergent . . . and numerous other things . . .**

**Finishing Harry Potter**

**Starting the owlcat92 account**

**Having reoccurring movie marathons with Chatterbox and Cat involving a lot of sugar and take-away**

**Starting to post my writing**

**Just, a lot. Seriously. **

**So there you have it. Me. YAY! **

_Sometimes I wish we're falling,_

_Wish for the release,_

_Wish for falling through the air, to give me some relief,_

_Because falling's not the problem, when I'm falling I'm at peace,_

_It's only when I hit the ground it causes all the grief." - __**Falling,**__**Florence + the Machine**_

**Disclaimer: I OWN NOTHING EXCEPT FOR THE IDEAS, OCs, THEORIES, AND CAT OWNS ANNABETH'S TELEKINESIS AND TELEPATHY! PEACE OUT!**_** (Please note that I have had no chance to proofread this so bear with me, okay? Tell me if I've made mistakes. *Grin*)**_

* * *

**_Chapter 25: Falling's Not the Problem_**

**Piper is a good listener. **She doesn't say anything as I speak, I can only sob and speak my wretched secrets that physically hurt when I let them out into the air. I'm telling her everything—my time with Tobias, how my parents died, how I have been so horrible and sick in this new world I fought so hard for and now I just want to crawl back into my old home, lock the gates I walked through so long ago and go back into the past.

But life isn't that easy.

I tell her about Percy and Annabeth, and how they didn't make sense and how Percy was caught by the Wraith and used and died and how Annabeth had finally broken from the strain. Talking about Annabeth makes me feel sick: I let her get that bad. I should've helped her. I shouldn't have encouraged her to do all those things.

It's so easy, sometimes, to forget that Annabeth had once been a normal girl that lived San Francisco and went to summer camp to train against monsters and had a completely sane boyfriend. It's so easy that she plummeted to her death one hundred years in the past, and that she ever knew love in the first place.

I tell her about the last time I saw Annabeth: lying to the camera and fighting cold and dirty, with buzzed short hair and ear piercings. I remember the collection of scars around her right wrist that looked like a chain; I remember her calling out the code: _17342. _Be ready when I come for you.

Something tells me she won't be coming.

"I'm sorry," Piper says at last. "You probably don't want my pity, but I'm sorry."

I don't want her pity, but something deep in me yearns for it. Almost like it will taste sweet. Pity. I haven't been given pity before—not in Abnegation, not in Dauntless, and most certainly not here. I close my eyes. Pity is like a drug. Before you know you're a jabbering wreck, begging for pity like a victim begs for death.

Something flashes under my eyelids—it's too fast for me to make out, but it wasn't something I would've imagined. It's not like a thought, it was like I was watching something. Or some_one_.

I take a shaky breath. "Piper, why are you immortal?"

"Because," she says. "They messed around with me. They decided to take my blood and concentrate the _ichor _in it. Then they calibrated every cell in my body to have some sort of program to stop them from aging and dying and becoming abnormal," she stops. It sounds like she's about to go on, but she only says, "they wanted to make me a god. They wanted to make human-born gods. Instead they created a monster."

"You can't be a monster," I say. "Monsters have no thought, no ethics, no—"

"Tris," Piper says, "this is beyond you."

"No it's not." I clench my fists. "Ever since I've come here I've been looked over, I've been treated like I am _nothing, _that everything is above and beyond me. Let me tell you, it's _not_. I'm the reason we got out here. _I _was the link. Maybe I am just a sixteen-year-old girl but I've seen more than I should."

Piper sighs. "In your world, I'm sure you're exemplary. I have no doubt you're a fearsome enemy, Tris, and you're smarter and wiser than most. But that's your world. You haven't grown up with monsters and magic and war. I hadn't, not until I was a little younger than you. I'm sure you're sick of being compared to Annabeth, but there's really a big difference."

"Yeah," I growl. "I'm sick of being compared to Annabeth."

"Do you know why people compare you two?" Piper sounds agitated now. "It's because you're both _heroes. _You're both the reason that so many lived and so many died. You lead. You fight. You're amazing . . . and you've both had things ripped from you."

"I don't want to talk about things I've lost, Piper."

"You should." The edge hasn't left Piper's voice. "Why keep them locked away when everyone already knows they've happened."

Her words hit me like a punch. My ears ring. Everyone knows that Tobias Eaton was shot by a Gaos agent that night we were ambushed. Everyone knows he died. Everyone knows what he meant to me. And everyone knows that it drove me insane.

So why do I keep everything hidden? _Why_?

Is it because I am afraid of the past? Is it because of some petty fear that I keep it all hidden from even me? That I am scared of the memories of watching his blood soak through his shirt, the life leaving his eyes? Is it because I never even heard him say my name for the last time?

Before I can say another word, the door to my cell is thrown open and a guard comes charging in. He grabs my by the shoulders in a cold grip like iron. He yanks me off the ground and then throws me back at it, hard. I hear my nose crack.

I feel for a knife in my belt, but there is nothing.

Except the belt.

The guard grabs me by my arm and hauls me to my feet. I'm not tall enough to see his face, and I can't bring myself to look up. I can smell a sour breath full of alcohol. "They always are stronger in small packages," he snarls.

My hand fumbles and the belt buckle. Memories are playing in my head of a Fear Landscape where I was not afraid.

A rough hand grabs my chin and forces me too look up. I can see brown stubble on the guard's chin, small dark eyes under heavy eyebrows. A long scar over his cheek.

Another memory flashes through my mind: Annabeth ducking under someone's blow and slicing upward, but the person dodged enough to just get a nick on the cheek.

It's him. The same person. He would have seen me. He would want revenge. I swallow.

He throws me back against the wall, and waits for my weak legs to buckle under me. My hand tears the buckle of the belt off, and the short leather belt is now wrapped around my knuckles.

I doubt I can stand. I don't care. I don't think this man has beating me up as the only form of revenge.

He advances, and I pull my arm back, straining my legs to get up. It turns out I don't have to.

The guard pulls me by the hair to my feet. I lash out with the belt, wrapping it around his neck so fast he can't react. He drops me by surprise, and I swing around so that I am behind him and push my foot into his spine, making him slam into the wall.

I pull back on the belt as hard as I can, feeling the man fumble and claw at it. I give the belt another yank back, and I hear him wretch as his windpipe is crushed.

"Tris?" Piper is calling for me. "Tris!"

My arms are screaming with the effort of attempting to strangle the man. Annabeth didn't get him, but I will. I will make sure he is dying by my hand—I will not have any enemies alive and breathing while I'm here.

It's their fault—they didn't take my belt. What are they, children?

I grunt from the effort, and then push the man harder forward, this time my foot is at the small of his back, and there is a sickening _snap._

The man's legs buckle. I wrench the belt against his throat again, before taking it away and putting it back through the loopholes of my jeans. The man lies lifeless on the floor of my cell. I drag a hand across my forehead, before realizing that the door is open. I can get out.

Just as I take a step towards it, another guard rushes through—just thus one doesn't look like he has a personal problem.

Positivity is for imps.

* * *

**Annabeth fell through the fire. **She wasn't Jason: she couldn't fly. She wasn't P— him: she couldn't be saved by water. She wasn't Nico: she couldn't shadow-travel.

She was stuck, free-falling through the fire and explosions that she had created. It was one simple idea: push the individual atoms apart, rip apart every fibre, every molecule, until it all went up in flames and exploded.

Maybe she felt like laughing, but she didn't. She had no expression other than the sudden freedom of walls: she was falling through the air, with nothing around her but fire, plummeting to her death a second time. Just this time she was alone, and this time she didn't care.

The air blew her hair back, roared in her ears like an animal. It felt like her face was being pulled of her bones. She could only see fire surrounding her, but there was no rubble, no debris: they had all exploded to the last fibre.

She fell through the plume of flames in front of her, singing her skin, but still she made no noise.

The fire cleared for a moment, and she could see the ground and the land of the Blank around her. She took a sweeping look against the force of the wind and gravity pulling her down to the ground.

Suddenly there was a dark flash, and she slammed into something cold.

* * *

**Tobias looked around. **He had no memory of getting here. He was staring up at the bottom of a fire-escape, with a streetlight's orange light filtering through the metal grid. There was a dark shape sitting next to him, who was by the looks of it smoking something.

Tobias sat up so fast he popped his back. "Oh, _shit_," he swore, straightening. Shady Boy looked up at him from where he was sitting. Under his hair Tobias could see the gleam of his eyes. He hadn't been smoking: he'd been looking at something.

Tobias rubbed his face and sat back down. Shady Boy glared at him from the corner of his eye. Shady Boy was always glaring—his face was set in a perpetual scowl, Tobias had realized. Even when he had been fighting that _thing _his face had remained the same.

"Where are we?" Tobias asked. Shady Boy examined his trinket again.

"'Frisco. Home of the drunkards and the Westers."

"Drunkards," Tobias mused. "But that can't be right . . . I mean, can it? Doesn't sound right. Night clubs more like it."

Shady Boy looked across at him from the corner of his eye again, this time his eyebrows twitched—Tobias took that as completely gobsmacked. Why? What was so surprising?

If possible, the light suddenly dimmed a lot more. Shady Boy continued to look at his trinket. "What is that, anyway?" Tobias asked.

Shady Boy held it out into the light, and Tobias's breath caught in his throat. It was a small, star-shaped disk, made of metal. Its edges were razored sharp.

"Shuriken," Tobias said in awe. Shady Boy looked at him properly that time, then with a flick of his hand there was a shuriken between every one of his fingers. "They're a difficult weapon," Shady Boy said. "You can't bet too far or too close for a proper use of them. It takes years for them to be mastered."

With a flick of his wrist he sent the four weapons flying, and they impaled themselves in the brickwork of the building across the alley in a perfect line. Shady Boy got up and walked over. In one swinging movement of his arm he collected them all from the wall.

Shady Boy sat back down in the shadows. "I don't have the patience to teach," he said.

Tobias clamped his mouth shut at the question he was about to ask. Shady Boy looked out into the alley. "What do you remember, Tobias? Do you know how you got here?"

Tobias swallowed. He considered lying, but then shoved the thought aside. Shady Boy would see right through him. "No," he said. "The last thing I remember from before I woke up is walking through the gates at Amity."

Shady Boy was silent for a moment; thinking.

Then, he said, "What are you afraid of, Tobias Eaton?"

Tobias started to talk, but he couldn't get any words out. In the end he managed, "What's it to you?"

Shady Boy leaned his head back against the wall. "Fear is a weapon. In some cases it can cause you to forget. Have you ever heard the name 'Clyde' before, Tobias?"

_Clyde . . . _the name sounded familiar, almost like it was on the tip of his tongue, but for some reason he couldn't say it aloud. "I . . . no, I don't think so," he said. "It rings a bell, but I have no idea which one."

Shady Boy snorted. He muttered something in another language, something that managed to give Tobias an earache. Shady Boy let a short breath out. "I'm going to get that bastard."

"Which one? Clyde?" the name sounded weird in the air. Tobias couldn't figure out why. It felt fine to think.

Shady Boy's shoulders tensed. ". . . Yeah," he said, "That one."

Tobias wasn't sure if it was a lie: it was said like it was a lie, but at the same time it had the undertone of truth. Tobias decided it was half of the truth.

"Who are y—" before Tobias could finish the sentence, Shady Boy's hand had closed around his throat.

"Don't ask," Shady Boy said. His voice had suddenly changed—it was darker, predatory. His eyes seemed darker; everything about him seemed suddenly more dangerous. "Don't _ever _ask."

"Why?" Tobias chocked out. "Scared of telling me?"

Tobias regretted it as soon as he said it. Shady Boy threw him across the alley so hard he was sure he cracked the brickwork on the building behind him. "If this is how you acted no wonder he left you alive."

Tobias's vision was fuzzy and spotted with red and black and all manner of colours he was failing to decipher. His ears were ringing. Something warm and wet was dripping down his neck, running across his scalp. How hard had he been thrown?

"Very," Shady Boy snarled. "And my name isn't Shady Boy. It's C."

Before Tobias could register, he was gone.

* * *

**When Clyde came to, he wasn't bound, he wasn't lying down.** He was sitting in an armchair, properly dressed and feeling better than he had since being put in this body.

"Well," said a sour voice. "It awakes."

"I have a gender, if you must know," Clyde said, straightening in his chair. "And it's very distinctly male."

"It's a male? Why, that's interesting."

"Very much so," Clyde said. His eyes darted around, looking for the owner of the voice. "Who are you? Well, more importantly _where _are you?"

"Ah, clever Eidolon," said another voice, but sweeter, but there was something sinister to it. "Wants to know where and who we are. Shall we tell him, Alexis?"

"No," the sour voice replied. Something cold touched Clyde's cheek and he jumped away from it. There was nothing there.

The sour-voiced one, Alexis, said, "he's on a different Dimension Plane. Who would have done that?"

"Are we taking bets?" the second voice said. _Dimension Plane? _"Yeah, well, I'll go for him."

"For me?" Clyde asked.

"No!" Alexis snapped. "Why on _earth _would you have the ability to shift dimensions? It's that old codger, isn't it?"

"I said it first," the other woman pointed out.

Alexis sighed. "Fine, you did."

There was a scoff. "And he's not _old. _He still looks like he did a few septillion years ago."

"Minus the eyes," Alexis noted. "And the sick mind."

"He's good for blackmail."

"Ladies, ladies," Clyde said. "This is all very well but, um, is there a way to change _back _dimensions?"

"Oh, sure," the sweeter voice said. "Just we need to go find that jackass."

"I thought you said he was hot," Alexis said.

"I never did."

"Yes, you did. Thirty days, seven hours, three minutes and forty-eight seconds ago you did."

The second voice paused. "I really hate your skills, sometimes, Alexis."

"All in the hat, Elektra. All in the hat."

"Look," Clyde said again. "What you're telling me is that the person who put me in this dimension is the only one that can put me back in?"

"Yeah," Elektra said. "And if he turns up I really need to talk to him."

"He's older than the Base Universe, and you want to go on a date with him." Alexis made a noise like she was putting her head in her hands. "You're just hopeless."

"Well, you can't judge a book by its cover."

"He's wrecked the most pain and destruction in the entire existence of the universe. And you're saying not to judge by their cover."

"Just because you are practical and have no feelings—"

"I'd rather have that then throw yourself at every powerful guy you meet."

"He's the _daemon. _He's amazing."

"By 'amazing' you mean psychopathic, right?"

Clyde could imagine Elektra throwing her hands up. "You're the one who banned pirates."

"Elektra, he _is _a pirate."

"A billion years ago."

"Okay, you're having a fight over the guy who put me in this alternate dimension."

"Pocket dimensions," Alexis said. "They co-exist with the major ones. Think of them as backtreets, I guess."

"C'mon, Alexis, he's _freakishly hot_."

"He is _freakishly lacking in emotions. _What makes you think he doesn't plan to kill you? Knowing that guy he probably put the Eidolon in that dimension solely because that would mean we would seek him out and then he is free to freaking gut us."

"But we have—"

"Yes, we have her, but she's still useless until she's been trained. She's got the Mark on her arm. She's dead meat."

"But _why _would he go for her? Petty little demigod, when _we're _here?"

'So you'd like to be hunted down by him, would you?"

Clyde rubbed his eyes. "Ladies, it's all very interesting with this boy talk, but really, how do you plan to get me out of here?"

"Do you remember anything? Of how you got here?"

"I remember you making me shit myself with your itty bitty demon crap."

"Ah," Alexis sighed. "That was fun."

"But other than that, no."

Elektra continued, "we didn't bring you here. We found you at the edge of the boundaries. Not even the demon could break through them they are so ancient. Not unless he really _tried . . ._"

"Wow, you _are _a power-hungry bitch, aren't you?" Alexis commented. Clyde winced, waiting for an explosion.

Nothing.

Elektra sighed. "You just have some issues. I mean, as an_ ally_—"

"He does not pick sides. He is just a heartless demon wherever he goes."

"I believe," said a new voice. "That you would be talking about me."

* * *

This time the guard is prepared to fight. In a moment he twists my arms behind my back and pushes me to the ground. "Tris!" I can hear Piper's voice, just it's not helping.

"Shut it, McLean," the guard growls.

And Piper does stay quiet, but then her voice changes. It becomes softer, impossible to not listen to. "Let her go. She hasn't done anything."

The guard's grip loosens, but he doesn't let go. His voice is tight when he says, "Charmspeak."

"Let her go," Piper says again, stronger. "She has done _nothing wrong_."

The guard's hands are trembling, but he lets go. I scramble to my feet, not understanding what is going on. "You're a demon, you know," the guard manages against a tight mouth.

"There's a knife in your belt," Piper says. "Take it out."

"No," the guard says. "No, no, no, no!"

"Take out the standard-issue knife in your belt."

I watch in horror has the guard takes the small knife from his belt. What's happening? What's he doing?

"Raise it above your chest."

Sweat drips down the guard's face. "I knew we should have killed you when we had the chance," he spits. Piper says nothing.

The knife gleams as the guard holds it just above his sternum.

"Stab yourself through the heart."

I turn and run before I can see what happens. There are guards stationed everywhere in the corridor, but my heart is pumping so hard I take them out without much of an effort. Duck, swing, a jab to the throat, a punch to the temple.

I continue to sprint down the stairs, not even feeling my legs move.

"Tris."

My legs come to a skidding halt. I'm on the level below my cell. Piper's voice. It's different, but I can't figure out how. It's definitely Piper's voice, but there is an edge to it, something that's off.

"Tris, run!" that voice is the one I know as Piper's voice. It sounds desperate. But I can't run. I can't move. I look at the door of her cell. All the guards have knives through their chests. My heart is pumping so hard it feels like it's in my throat. I feel like I'm going to vomit.

"Tris." It's the other voice this time. "Come on. Come over here. Come on, let's get us out of here, eh?" it's the same cold voice now. The not-Piper. Trembling, my feet start to carry me towards the sound. _No, _I think, but I can't seem to order my feet to where I want to go.

I want to speak, to open my mouth and object to the not-Piper's question, but I can't, it feels like a cold vice has been placed around me, and I have no control.

"No," Piper's voice is strained. "Tris, run—_now!_"

"No, no, don't listen to her," the voice purrs. Something inside me snaps. _Don't listen to her. _

_I won't listen to her._

Driven by some force I stride forward to the door, raise my fist, and feel my stomach knot. As I punch the door, there's a bright blast of lightning.

I remember once that I slipped over on the gravel and scraped all the skin off my shins. That sharp, grating feeling that made me wince is back now, just so much stronger and almost like it's inside me.

I stumble back, but strong, cold hands grip my neck in a vice.

I remember looking at pictures of Piper in Odysseus. She had been tall and beautiful, with rich, toned skin.

But the creature standing in front of me is as pale as marble, with blue lips and blue-tinged eyelids. But her eyes are completely black.

She hisses in my face, and I wince away. Instead of teeth, she has brutal fangs, like a lizard.

"Well," she purrs, "the great Beatrice Prior."

Her eyes are cold. I swallow. This isn't Piper, this is a demon.

* * *

_The Doors rose up, right in front of her. "Percy," she said. "We . . . we made it." _

_Percy said nothing. Annabeth looked sideways to see why, but there was no one there. _

_"Beware, Annabeth Chase." The voice was cold, ancient. Far, far older than Gaea. "Beware of your fate."_

_Annabeth stumbled away. Percy should have been there. They were in Tartarus _together!

_"Percy!" she called. Her stomach tied itself in knots. "PERCY!" _

_The voice laughed. "How petty they all seem . . ." _

_She took another step back, her heartbeat in her mouth. Suddenly she fell against something. She sprung away, feeling so full of adrenaline and fear she felt she was going to explode._

_Where she had been stood a boy. He was thin, too thin, maybe, but his form was hidden by an overcoat of some sort. Before him he held a bronze sword, tip resting against the stone floor of Tartarus. His dark hair fell over his eyes, and there were scars on his hands._

_Slowly, he looked up, and Annabeth almost blacked out. The eyes staring at her were so cold and empty it felt almost like she was being pulled. Suddenly pain exploded in her skull, and she fell to her knees, gripping her head so hard she thought it would shatter. She shut her eyes, but the haunting image of the boy's black eyes was almost like being mentally blinded. It blocked out all forms of thought, of emotion. _

_But it didn't block out sense._

_She could feel it, a horrible feeling of sense, that feeling that you feel as the blade falls against your neck, seconds before it slices through it. The feeling of sense, of a harmony with the fabric of existence. _

_It was addictive._

_"Enough," said a voice. _

Annabeth's eyes snapped open. There was no feeling of sense, but she felt almost as if she could feel a ghost of it . . .

"That's enough," snapped a cold voice. Annabeth stared up at the face of the speaker. It was the face of a man, well, hardly a man, he couldn't have been any older than twenty, with a hard-set mouth and brow.

The face turned away. "It's worse than we thought. She's already being Hunted."

"Well," another face drifted into focus, with black hair and dark eyes. "That was unexpected."

"She's being _Hunted, _Lady Ale—"

"I heard, _Geoff," _the woman snapped. "I may be ancient but I'm not _deaf. _Get lost."

Geoff didn't say anything. There was the sound of a turn of heels, and then heavy footfalls out of the room. Annabeth reached up to touch her head, and felt a long gash running over her forehead, stopping at her right eyebrow.

"Hmmm," the woman said. "You seem remarkably human. Unremarkable, really. Just another confused girl."

Annabeth grinded her teeth. She wasn't going to kill the woman, she wasn't going to kill the woman.

"Or demigod, as I should say. Annabeth Chase. Oh yes, you ring a few bells. Set off some high people. But really, deep down, _Annabeth Chase, _you are just a confused little girl that hides in the shadow of anger."

Annabeth lunged, but the woman wasn't there.

"You crave _sense," _she said again. "The feeling a dead man gets as the sword swings. You crave it. You _desire _it. Even more so than you desire the one you loved so very dearly falling between your fingers like sand."

Annabeth was on her feet, trying to get a shot at the woman, but every time she swung the woman was no longer there. She seemed almost ghost-like.

"Anger. A foolish emotion. The convicted criminal does not feel anger when he is charged. He feels shame. He feels fear. Maybe he even feels proud. But _angry_? No. Anger is for the fool. The Hunted should not feel so."

At last Annabeth gave up, pressed her fingertips to her temples and shouted, _"Enough!"_

It felt almost like a shockwave being pressed through the air. The woman stopped, mid-forming. She was all weathered skin and dark hair. At last her form finished and she straightened.

"Good," she said. "Training may commence."

"I don't care about this _training. _Who and _what _are you?"

The woman smiled. "I am Lady Alexis of Past's Echo. Sister to Elektra, Future's Path."

"Never heard of you."

"Exactly," Alexis said. "We only came into being as the war started. People thought of the past and of the future a lot in the midst of war. We have three more sisters: Life, Death, and Sense."

"Then where are they?"

"Gone." Alexis's tone was sharp. "They were Hunted and killed by the _Daemon. _I don't assume you know who he is."

"No," Annabeth replied curtly. "I don't."

"Come," Alexis said. "Time for a history lesson."

* * *

_C. That's his name. Is that his name? That's a stupid name._

Tobias rubbed his head again as he walked through the dark alleys of San Francisco, as he had seen on the signs. Where was he? He still had no idea. His last memory was of watching the video, the shouting, and one last glance at Tris.

Her small face had been tight in a scowl. There was no lightness in it.

Tobias looked up at the tape around a nightclub. Did he know the place? He touched the notice sign. _Closed for further investigation to the murder of Mark Oaks. _

_Mark Oaks. _Did he know that name? It sounded . . . familiar.

"Hey! You there!" he spun around, seeing two men armed with guns at the end of the alley. "Hold up your right arm!"

Confused, Tobias did what they said. What was so special about his—

"Fire!" one of the men said.

Tobias turned and ran down the alley. The popping sounds of gunfire filled his head. He could feel the bullets skimming by his face, so close he could almost feel the lead against his skin.

_Run. Don't look back. Run. Faster, dammit! You think bullets get tired?_

The voice wasn't his. If he hadn't been so focused on running from the bullets, he might have fainted in shock.

_You don't know who I am? Dude, it's me—Clyde!_

_Clyde._

This time Tobias _did _stumble, but it was down a manhole. He was left hanging by nothing but his fingertips.

_Oh shit, man—dude, let go!_

_ARE YOU INSANE?! _Tobias didn't know what to do other than mentally scream. Maybe he'd lost the armed men. Maybe there was a chance that they—

"There! In the manhole!"

_Letting go, _Tobias told Clyde.

As soon as his fingertips left the steel rim of the hole, his stomach tied as he fell through open space, being pulled by the force of gravity. Tobias couldn't think, he could only feel his heart pumping in his chest as he fell straight down.

Bullets ricocheted of the walls of the sewer, and Tobias slammed into the fetid water. He jumped out, onto the ledge, in the process startling the rats that had been there.

_Urgh, _he thought, spitting. No doubt he was covered in shit and vomit and all the other revolting things that people flushed down their toilets. Tobias leaned back against the wall. _I hope you know I hate your guts right now, whoever-you-are Clyde._

_That's nice, _Clyde said. _You _really _don't know who I am?_

_If I did, maybe I'd be a bit more _understanding _of you being _inside my fucking head.

_No need to be a prick, geez, man. I just saved your ass._

_No, you just dropped it in sewage. My ass has been in _other people's shit.

_. . . that _does _sound pretty nasty, now that I think about it._

_You? Think? Oh wow, excuse me while I faint from shock._

_And you say you don't know me, _Clyde mused.

Tobias grunted and got to his feet. Other than feeling like he'd fallen into shit he felt okay. Further down the sewage tunnel, there was a faint light. It had giant moths buzzing around it. He remembered Christina's fear of moths. He snorted.

_That's just harsh, _Clyde said.

Tobias ignored him and worked his way through the rats scurrying around his feet towards the door. He batted a moth out of his face. The door was too covered in grime to see what it said, but Tobias started to turn the wheel on it anyway.

_Tobias? Are you sure that's a good idea? There could be more shit through there!_

_Not like I can get any shittier, _Tobias snapped and heaved the door open.

On the contrary, there was no shit beyond the door, rather a _severe absence _of shit. It looked like a medical facility. Or maybe a prison.

The room was whitewashed and spotless, with a single door on the other end reading _Decontamination Room. _Tobias didn't really understand why that would be there _next to a sewer, _and then he realized that maybe the sewer used to be an entrance.

He walked towards the door, and as soon as his fingertips grazed it a mechanical voice said, _"Access granted. Human. Tobias Eaton."_

Tobias jumped back, but the door only swung open. Beyond it was another white room, but this one had steam rolling up from the edges. Tobias swallowed as his curiosity won out.

_And you thought I was an idiot, _Clyde said.

_Will you _shut up? Tobias snapped.

He walked through the door and it slammed shut after him. He tried to open it, but it was locked.

Swallowing his mounting terror, he turned back to the room.

The steam had billowed up, and the room was warm. Water started spraying from the ceiling, well, Tobias _guessed _it was water, but it seemed to be washing away all of the crap on him . . . far better than water.

A blast of hot hair rendered him bone dry. He ran a hand through his hair, finding it not even damp.

"What the . . . ?" he muttered, but yet another door swung open in front of him.

"Unidentified personnel," the machine said again. "Tobias Eaton is unidentified. Tobias Eaton is unidentified."

That didn't really make sense to Tobias but he decided to run. In the only direction open. The door.

Asdfghjkl;'

Clyde jumped back, slamming against the cold floor. _This person _he could see, and he wasn't exactly the thing Clyde would've wanted to see.

Darkness, and a sense of falling. Almost like the person was a living black hole. That's how Clyde felt looking at the guy. Dark hair fell over his face, and Clyde could just see a furrowed brow and puckered mouth.

Definitely black hole.

"Y-yes," Elektra chocked out. "We're talking about you, _Dae —"_

"Don't shadow my name," Black Hole boy snapped. "You, Elektra, _future, _knows what happens when you do. As do you, _Alexis,_" the boy spat their names out like they truly disgusted him. Clyde rubbed his head. The boy was giving him a headache.

"Quiet, _daemon!" _Alexis shrieked. "In the memory of our sisters I will not allow you to offend us."

"Won't _allow _me?" Black Hole said. "Are you sure that's a good idea?"

"You _murdered _our sisters!" Elektra screamed. "We have every right to not allow you!"

Black Hole leaned against the doorframe. "I always do love how ants tell you not to step on them."

Clyde swallowed. Something told him he should run, like, freakishly far, but the other half of him was desperate to get out of the pocket dimension.

Black Hole's eyes fixed on him. Clyde felt his blood turn cold. Even though he couldn't see the boy's eyes from the distance or under the hair, he could still feel the heavy cold and darkness that pushed down almost on his soul.

"You want him out of the pocket," Black Hole commented. "Give me the girl and he's yours."

"The girl is not up for debate. She's meant to defeat you."

For a moment, Clyde almost thought the boy smiled, a cruel, cold smile, but still an emotion other than his heavy beaten face. But he didn't. "Defeat me? If you had said defeat God then maybe I would have believed you. But _me_? Have you been drinking that ale, again, Alexis? Or perhaps your sister has paid you a visit—"

"Greta's death was beyond insulting," Alexis said, her voice trembling with either rage or fear, Clyde couldn't tell. "The Silhouette of Death being killed by—"

"Yes, yes, it's all very touching. And then the Flame of Life being—surprisingly—also killed by me, and how's F—"

"She is not to be brought up!" Elektra screamed. Clyde could hear footsteps on the marble, no doubt Elektra storming forward. Black Hole's gaze followed her. "You have _no right here!_"

"Ironic, how when I am not physically here you all want me here, even _fantasize _about me, and then as soon as I'm here you all hate me. Isn't it so _ironic_?" Black Hole spat the word in Elektra's face (or so Clyde thought, he still couldn't see them.)

"Leave her out of this!" Alexis said. "She's young. She's foolish."

"'Foolish' is too childish a word. You wanted me here so that I could move the soul from my pocket dimension. Give me the girl, and he's out."

"No."

Black Hole cracked his knuckles. "Then he can stay where he is."

"Negotiate."

"I have had," Black Hole said, his voice tightening with obvious rage. "Longer than reality to perfect my negotiating, and my will. I am not a petty trader that will back down, so _do not test me_."

"What about Greta?" Elektra asked quietly. For maybe a moment, Clyde saw the corner of the boy's mouth twitch, from what he wasn't sure. "What has she got to do with it?" he snarled. "She's dead, remember?"

"We do not forget easily," Alexis said.

"_You are destined to free him," _Elektra said, her voice sounded different, almost hollow. Clyde jumped back from the sound, even though it sounded as if she was whispering it in his ear. _"The eidolon does not remain in the pocket dimension beyond this conversation. For he is the key that leads to your quest. He is the one that frees you, _Daemon. _Without freeing him, you will forever be condemned to fear and death. You will forever be trapped with such the horror within you, and you will never find her should you not."_

Black Hole's face remained black, but suddenly Clyde's ears popped, and he looked into a room full of people. There was a shorter, dark-haired woman with olive skin and a wrinkled face, and a tall young woman, barely twenty, Clyde would say, with stark white hair and eyes so pale they were almost silver. Both were wearing dark robes, with leather slippers on their feet, just where the dark-haired woman had gold-capped toes, the fair-haired had silver.

Black Hole didn't look pleased, which was saying something since his face hadn't changed. "I already knew the future of him," he said. "But the girl is out of my knowledge. Be careful of her. There is something that is different about her."

In a movement like a piece of black lace billowing in the wind, Black Hole disappeared, leaving nothing behind but a cold in the pit of Clyde's stomach.

"What," he stammered, "was that?"

The fair-haired woman looked across at him. Clyde couldn't help but notice her long lashes and angular face. She was very pretty. "That was the _Daemon. _In his mortal form. With possibly a _wisp-mind_."

Clyde recognized the woman's voice as Elektra. Her silver eyes fixed on him. "I have to explain a wisp mind, don't I?" she gave a small smile. Clyde felt his stomach knot. From what?

He shook Tobias's memories of Tris out of his head and began to listen to what Elektra was saying. "A _wisp-mind _is like a small tendril of a greater whole, I suppose you could say. Think of it as a huge tree. With leaves and branches and roots and so on. A wisp mind, in the _Daemon's _proportions, would be like taking a single cell from the smallest leaf. I guess you could call it a cell mind, really. But that's it. Should he speak to one of us with his whole mind forward, then our souls would likely be crushed by the weight of its presence."

"Then . . . does he ever have his full mind?"

Elektra laughed then, genuinely amused. "Oh, of course. There is a small hole in time and space, earth and air where the _Daemon _abides, where he is left in the solace of his full mind. It is said that he takes pity on all living things with our simple, tiny minds, which is why he kills us."

"Then . . . why call him a demon?"

Elektra's face darkened, and she looked away. Alexis spoke up, eyes still fixed on where the demon boy had stood. "Because while that is the legend, it is only that. The truth is that his soul was crushed by the weight of his evil. Evil took him over, and he became the _Daemon. _He has but one goal, and will do everything in his power—which is all power and even more—to get to it. But the problem? His goal is to reach the one thing that is beyond him. And it keeps him at bay. I fear that should he reach his goal, the world will be plunged into darkness like it was when he got Greta."

Elektra pressed her eyes closed, wincing. Clyde shakily got to his feet. "So what is his goal? I mean, you want me to help, don't you? There's a reason he put me in that dimension."

Alexis sighed. "I'm not sure you will understand his goal, but I will say that he has made a mistake three times: Life and Death. He made the mistake a third time, with our sister Felicia, but he realized it before he could do much, so instead he summoned his whole mind, and so her soul was crushed. Now she lies in her bed, lifeless, other than a heartbeat. Felicia will never again exist. Her body will die and then she will end. Leaving only the two Sisters of Time. And then I fear we will fail our oaths and the _Daemon _will succeed . . . unless our hope prevails."

"And what's your hope?" Clyde asked. "And what do you want me to do?"

"Our order is the only thing that has managed to survive eternity of the _Daemon's _wrath. Our fighters are trained enough to give him maybe less than a fleeting moment's thought. Perhaps even a moment. We need you to lead them, but first, before that, you must find your other half."

"My other half?"

"You were paired with another body before this one," Alexis explained. "Tobias Eaton. You must find him. With your mind, of course. We cannot risk another person dying. There is a reason you have maintained such a link, and that's because you are partly responsible for bringing his mind back to life."

Clyde scratched his head. "Then what's the other reason he's alive?"

"Corny moment," Elektra muttered.

Alexis sighed. "Love. The girl that you had been programmed to fall in love with, Beatrice Prior—"

"Tris," Clyde corrected absently. _Programmed to fall in love with? What?_

"Yes, well, the Legacy," Alexis amended. "She, in her frail mind, latched onto his spirit. He was her anchor while she was being threatened into insanity. She began to . . . how to put this . . . ? Hallucinate. His mind survived through her, the echo that she had clung to returned to Tobias and so he lived. It does sound horribly cheesy, but that is what happened. So now he is struggling through San Francisco as the _Daemon _just left him to come here."

"Whoa, what would _Tobias_—the most realistic and non-magicy guy I know—have _anything _to do with him?"

"As you realized, you have amnesia."

Clyde's eyes widened. "You know what happened?"

"No," they said in unison.

"But," Elektra said. "There is someone who does, even if they do not realize it."

"Really?" Clyde asked. "Great. Who?"

Elektra looked down. She knotted her hands nervously. "The _Daemon's _goal. The girl."

Dread settled in Clyde's stomach. "Who is she?"

"You have never met in person, I believe," Elektra said. "But you will. You have met her through Tobias's memories."

Clyde could hardly breathe. "It's not . . ." _No, _he thought. He'd met Tris. That left . . .

Alexis sighed. "Yes, it is."

Elektra lifted her face to the sky and closed her eyes. "It's Annabeth Chase."

* * *

**ASDFGHJKL:"**

**Okay guys, confessions: I know I gave away spoilers about Tobias and Tris finding each other again and stuff like that, and I AM SO SORRY BUT I JUST COULD NOT BRING MYSELF TO STRETCH OUT THE CHAPTER ANYMORE SO I HAD TO CUT THEM OFF. NEXT CHAPTER. I SWEAR ON THE RIVER STYX, OKAY?!**

**Okay, okay, okay. That's good. YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA AY! I will try and get the next chapter out soon. It won't be as long, but IT WILL BE OUT. AND TRIS AND TOBIAS _WILL _MEET! AND LEO WILL COME BACK! I SWEAR IT! WHOOP!**

**Anyway, that was it. Um, yeah. Whoo. .3.**

**. . . I had ****_way _****too much fun writing that last bit from Clyde. ****_WAY _****too much fun.**

**So, my Chapter 25 Playlist . . .**

_**Breath of Life - From "Snow White and the Huntsmen", Florence + the Machine**_

_**Dead Harts - Stars**_

_**Deep Shadow - Through the Lens (TTL)**_

_**Falling - Florence + the Machine**_

_**Fix You - Coldplay **_

_**Howl - Florence + the Machine**_

_**Lily's Theme - from "Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows Part 1"**_

_**Lover Soldier - Washington**_

_**Never Let Me Go - Florence + the Machine**_

_**October - Broken Bells**_

_**Paradise - Coldplay **_

_**Punching in a Dream - the Naked and Famous**_

_**Radioactive - Imagine Dragons**_

_**River Flows in You - Yiruma**_

_**Sailing to Nowhere - Broken Bells**_

_**She Wolf (Falling to Pieces) - David Guetta feat. Sia**_

_**Skyfall - Adele**_

_**Skinny Love - Birdy**_

_**So Cold - Ben Cocks**_

_**World Without End - Brand X Music**_

_**Secret - the Pierces**_

_**All or Nothing - Brand X Music**_

**Okay, so these are just basically my favourite songs. Meh. I'm starting a thing where I create a playlist for every chapter so I can listen to it while writing . . . yeah.**

**Brand X Music are instrumental, "Secret" by the Pierces - that is just. asdfghjkl;' that is an amazing song, I seriously recommend it, just apparently it creeped the crap outta my friend. . . . Meh. "Dead Hearts" by Stars is one of the most amazing songs I have ever heard. I feel like crying every time I listen to it. Seriously. IT IS AMAZING. GAH.**

**Other songs I listened to while writing that I am too cheap to buy are:**

**"C'mon" - Panic! At the Disco**

**"How Far We've Come" - Matchbox Twenty**

**"The Scientist" - Coldplay**

**Yep. That's me done. **

******EXTRA COOL AND AWESOME QUESTION******

**Do you want me to create a character of you? I mean, if you want me to give me details of a character I will make them a random one-shot or something and happily write it out because I am just sad like that. I don't care what the character looks like of what they do, (I write freaking torture scenes for Pete's sake) so yeah. FEEL FREE TO ASK! I guess this is like commissions . . . would you rather me post them in A/Ns or on the owlcat92 deviantART page? *shrug***

**So yeah. I'm about to go off on school camp, so I'll be . . . out for a while. You'll have to excuse that. I get to sit next to Cat and fangirl while eating lollies we smuggled onto the bus for 6 hours straight . . . and fangirl and possibly talk about Kid Flash running around in his yellow tights.**

**I'm sorry, but when you make ****_this _****particular equation that goes a bit like this:**

**Owl +Cat + sugar + small space + other people + 6 hours + stuffy bus + lollies + getting up early + fangirlism = oh crap. **

**So yeah. BEWARE!**

**-Owl**

**(Just for the record "Skyfall" has started playing as I post this. WHOO! **

**. . . Wow that song is so Percabeth it's not funny . . .**


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